


The Life and Times of Four Self-Proclaimed Mischief Makers

by allmycomfortcharactersaredead



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hogwarts First Year, James Potter is chaotic, Lily Evans is the smartest eleven year old ever, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Mentioned Regulus Black, Minerva McGonagall is everyone's mom, POV Alternating, POV James Potter, POV Lily Evans Potter, POV Peter Pettigrew, POV Remus Lupin, POV Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew has Anxiety, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Remus Lupin has trust issues, Sirius Black & Marlene McKinnon Friendship, Sirius Black is a comedic genius, snape slander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmycomfortcharactersaredead/pseuds/allmycomfortcharactersaredead
Summary: The Marauders' wonderful chaotic First Year at Hogwarts.This concept and these characters belong to JK Rowling, although I do not support her or her views.
Relationships: Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, lily evans potter & marlene mckinnon & mary macdonald & alice longbottom
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	1. The Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been written and rewritten about three and a half times by now, so hopefully this will be the last.

James Potter pushes his mother’s hands away as they come out in an attempt to strangle him once again. He grimaces, wishing she’d stop. He’s finally, _finally_ at Platform 9 ¾, where he’s been dreaming of coming ever since he was old enough to know what it was. The last thing he needs is for his Mum to embarrass him beyond belief before he even steps foot on the train. James glances around, desperate for something to distract her with.

“Look, Mum, it’s the Pettigrews,” he blusters, pointing to his childhood friend and trying discreetly to back away. Peter Pettigrew and his mother have just come through the barrier, and James catches Peter’s eye, sending him what he hopes resembles a “help me!” sort of look. To his dismay, Peter only laughs and turns to say goodbye to his Mum.

“Oh, well, I’ll go and say hello once you boys are on the train.” Euphemia Potter straightens up to look down at her son, grasping her husband’s hand. It’s much more intimidating than you might think, James finds, to have two sappy adults looking down on you, ready to shower you in happy tears at any given moment. “We’re going to miss you, love.”

“Sure you will,” James grins, “right up until tomorrow morning when you finally wake up in peace.”

Fleamont Potter laughs, a belly laugh that sends comfort and reassurance through James. “I’m sure you’ve set up something to ensure that we don’t.” James merely smiles innocently up at him, although Mr. and Mrs. Potter know their son far too well to be comforted.

“Hey, James!” Peter’s somewhat squeaky voice comes panting up behind James, who spins around to greet him. “You excited?” he asks, voice giving away at hints of bottled-up nerves. Peter Pettigrew is a bit shorter than James himself, with closely cropped sandy blond hair and small blue eyes that become watery and squinty when he’s nervous. They seem to be a bit like that now.

“You bet, mate,” James replies, grin wider than ever. “I cannot wait to be a Gryffindor at last.” Mrs. Potter sends him a stern look, opening her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off. “I know, any House is a good House with me in it, blah blah.”

“Unless it’s Slytherin.”

“Fleamont!”

“Kidding!” Mr. Potter looks down at his son with an identical smile, and pulls James into one last suffocating hug. “Got everything? All set?” James nods, one arm around Peter’s shoulders and one holding his massive trunk. 

“Write often, will you?” Mrs. Potter pleads, happy tears forming in her eyes once again, which makes James roll his eyes behind his round glasses.

“I’ll try. No promises, though.”

“Alright. Be good, don’t get into too much trouble, write to us with your House. We love you.”

“Love you too, Mum. See you at Christmas!”

With one last wave to his parents, James swings himself and Peter towards the huge Hogwarts Express and sets off amid cries of departure and excitement. He feels his best mate breathing nervously under his arm, inhales the smells of the train. He couldn’t be more ready.

~~~

Peter Pettigrew could not be less ready for this.

He walks awkwardly through the station, eyes darting this way and that. He knows without looking that his Mum’s eyes are doing the same thing at that moment, which isn’t much of a reassurance. He gets his nerves from her, she says, but that’s the extent to which she’s helped him with it.

Mrs. Pettigrew guides him through the barrier with a stiff hand on his shoulder. He knows what’s coming (he’s many things, but he’s not ignorant about magic), but he still squeezes his eyes shut as they go through the wall. When he opens them, he’s in what might as well be an entirely new world. A familiar jolt of anxiety runs through his stomach as he looks around the platform.

The Hogwarts Express must be the largest train Peter has ever seen in his eleven years of existence (not that he’s seen many big trains, or any trains at that). It’s painted a vibrant ruby red color, and seems to stretch on for miles. The platform is positively bustling with life; it feels as if his brain is overloading as he tries to take it all in. The sign bearing the words _Platform 9 ¾_ swings above their heads, and it feels like proof to Peter that he’s here, as though the sign is specifically for him, telling him that he’s _where he belongs_. 

Peter surveys his surroundings until he catches sight of who he’s actually searching for. With a messy head of black hair and round silver glasses, James Potter stands out like a beacon of safety against Peter’s terrifying ocean of newness. James catches his eye from behind Euphemia Potter’s smuggling grasp, sending a helpless look Peter’s way that says he’d do anything for his best mate to save him right then, and a million thoughts go through Peter’s head at once. “ _Do I help him? Ignore him? Pretend I didn’t see him? What if he gets mad at me? What if I look stupid trying to help my mate away from his mum on the first day of school?_ ” Peter takes a deep breath and tries to do what James might do, settling on a laugh and turning back towards his mum.

“Right then,” Mrs. Pettigrew starts, looking down at him anxiously, "have a good term. Don't forget to write, stay out of trouble, even if James wants you to do something ridiculous, and....stay safe, all right?" Peter nods. "See you at Christmas then." She pauses then, looking over her son’s shoulder at the Potters. "Unless you'd rather stay with James? We'll have missed you, but we want you to be where you're happiest..." Another jolt of anxiety. Decisions always make him nervous. Best to put it off until the inevitable.

“I’ll write you about it.”

“Alright.”

For a split second, Peter thinks she might hug him, but then they’ve never been a particularly affectionate family. She settles for a squeeze on the arm before she passes Peter his trunk, and he waves goodbye, turning towards James. His best mate is now talking to his dad, both of them smiling as if there’s no one else in the world they’d rather talk to. Peter’s own father didn’t come with them today, something about work. He pushes down the familiar feeling of jealousy and runs up to them, calling out a greeting and almost running into someone in his hurry. The girl is blond, about his height, and she skids to a stop just in time. Ignoring her apology and the “Marlene! What did we say about running on the platform!” that comes from behind her, Peter ambles on, finally approaching James, who spins around to greet him.

“You excited?” he asks, hoping James can’t tell quite how nervous he is.

“You bet, mate. I cannot wait to be a Gryffindor at last,” James replies in that good-natured, pompous way he has. Peter tries to push down the swelling anxieties that come from that comment as James says his final goodbyes to his parents before throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulders and turning him around. James leads him away from the cries of parents and towards the monstrous train in front of them, and it feels fitting, Peter thinks, to be led into this terrifying new part of his life by James Potter, who seems to have led him into just about everything new in the span of their friendship. He only hopes he’s ready.

~~~

Remus Lupin takes in the platform from his train car window. Outside there are students calling out to friends and parents, people rushing this way and that. It’s quite the change from the quiet and stillness he’s accustomed to. A small, brown-haired girl with a round face walks pask, carrying what looks like a puss-filled cactus in her arms, while a group of older boys, all wearing green robes, stride primly in the other direction, glancing around as if everyone else is below them. He sees two younger students almost run into each other before a streak of red catches his eye as a small, redheaded girl runs across the platform, tugging her trunk through the hoards of people. Somehow, in all of her hurry, she manages to hit her trunk on the leg of a boy. Remus snickers.

The boy has dark hair growing a little longer than most boys Remus has seen, past his ears just to the point where you can tell he's growing it out. He’s the absolute picture of proper class and upbringing, standing open and sturdy, and something about him catches Remus’s eye. The boy's face is turned towards a woman with the same raven hair as his, but unlike his carefree, unkempt style, her's is pulled back into a most severe bun. It matches her face, Remus thinks, as she speaks to him in a manner of suppressed anger and disgust. He can tell the boy isn't really listening by the way his eyes dart around, coming suddenly to lock with his own. Panicking, Remus turns sharply and covers himself with his coat.

He hopes for that boy's sake that the woman speaking to him hadn't been his mother. No one should speak to a child like that, much less their own. It brings back the thought of his own parents, who, although they’re mildly frightened of their son and never do know how to best approach him, still try their best. Surprisingly, Remus finds that he doesn’t miss them much yet. He misses the comfort and reassurance of being in his own home, but he doesn't miss them much. His mind strays once again to the letter from Professor Dumbledore.

_Under no means should Mr. Lupin not be able to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are aware of the extent of the situation at hand, and I can assure you that we are coming up with a solution. I look forward to your arrival._

Remus had memorized that letter by the day after it arrived, holding onto the words like a life vest amid his personal sea of misery. Before he can allow flashbacks from those many months to hit him, the compartment door slides open.

A tall boy in green Slytherin robes stands in the doorway. He has sleek silver blond hair in a ponytail down his back and a smirk on his face, and upon his chest is a silver badge with a fancy _P_ on it. Behind him stands on one side an even taller dark skinned boy with a slow-smiling face and eyes that glint with mischief, but not the good kind, and on his other side stands a large, surly boy with closely cropped hair and hands the size of Remus’s skull. They’re all wearing green. The blond boy looks down at Remus, taking in his shabby exterior in disgust.

"Are you just going to sit there and stare at us?" The blond boy sneers, and Remus jumps. "Out."

Not bothering to argue for fear of being squashed by the large one, he gathers his coat and trunk and sets off down the corridor in search of another compartment.

~~~

Lily Evans presses a tear-streaked face against the train window. Outside on the platform, she can see Petunia and her parents making their way cautiously back towards the barrier, Tuney throwing nervous, angry glances over her shoulders. Her eyes well up again as she thinks back to their disastrous goodbye, but before she can dwell on it any further, the compartment door slides open and three boys drop in.

"C'mon, everywhere else is full."

Lily doesn't bother looking up as they enter, instead just wiping her eyes and trying to look as though she hasn’t been sobbing. They start up a conversation that Lily thinks is about broomsticks, and she finds this beyond boring, attempting to tune it out and focus on taking deep, calming breaths.

The compartment door opens again, this time bringing with it a fragile-looking boy, with stringy black hair that hangs to his chin and an awfully long nose. Severus Snape. Wonderful.

"I don't want to talk to you," Lily informs him, her voice constricted from crying. He ignores this, sitting down opposite her.

"Why not?"

Lily forces herself to look at him. His concern is deep, but it’s clearly only for making her happy again, despite the cause. "Tuney h-hates me," she chokes out. "Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore."

"So what?" Lily throws him a look of incredulity and dislike.

"So she's my sister!"

Severus mumbles something as she wipes her eyes. "But we're going!" he counters, his voice full of excitement. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!" She nods, half smiling against her will at his pure, boyish exhilaration. "You'd better be in Slytherin," he grins.

"Slytherin?" an appalled voice asks, and Lily turns her head to see that the three boys have finished their brain-numbing broom conversation and are now staring at her and Severus. Finally allowing herself to look at them, she takes in the boys one by one; one small, sandy haired, and nervous looking, one dark haired and reeking unruly confidence, and one with messy jet black hair and round glasses. The latter is now looking at the two of them incredulously.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin?" he asks, saying the name as if it were a food that only rats could eat. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" He directs the question at the other dark haired boy, although the sandy haired one nods nervously in response. His friend looks up from his lounging position and doesn't smile.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he grumbles.

"Blimey," says the first boy, "and I thought you seemed all right!"

The second boy grins. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?" Lily stays watching the boys, although she can practically feel rage seeping off of Severus from across from her.

"Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!" the bespectacled boy sings, holding up an invisible sword. "Like my dad." Severus scoffs, and the boy turns on him. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," Severus sneers. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy-"

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" the second boy shoots back from his relaxed position.

Before Severus can reply, Lily stands, grabbing her friend by the arm. The first boy roars with laughter and she shoots them both a look of disgust. "Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment." Ignoring the Oooohhh's and the “See ya, Snivellus”! that comes from the boys, she pulls him out of the door and into the hallway, almost colliding with another boy. 

This boy has mousy brown hair and is carrying a worn trunk and coat. He looks at her, and she smiles back in an attempt to be friendly, ignoring the pulls on her arm from Severus. "Hey, is that compartment free?" he questions, signalling to the one they'd just come out of.

"No,” she answers, “there are three quite obnoxious boys in there, but physically, yes there's room. Enter at your own risk, though." The boy sends her a look of gratitude and goes into the compartment. Lily sighs and follows Severus down the hall.

~~~

Sirius Black sighs in relief as the redhead and her greasy friend exit the compartment, but no sooner has the breath been released that the door opens once again, and in steps a boy. He’s about Sirius’s height, with chestnut brown hair and tired eyes, and he looks at them cautiously, asking without words whether or not he can sit here. Sirius recognizes him immediately; it’s the boy from the window. He cringes, hoping the boy hadn’t overheard his mother.

James begins introductions without a moment's hesitation. “Hey, wanna sit with us?" he asks kindly, and the boy gives him a grateful smile before going to sit in the seat that the red haired girl had been in minutes before. "I'm James Potter, and this is Peter Pettigrew." He motions towards Peter, who gives an anxious wave and a smile.

Sirius sits up straighter. For some reason, he wants this new boy to like him. "Sirius Black," he proclaims, holding up two lazy finger guns. James laughs and the boy flushes, which for unexplainable reasons makes Sirius fill with pride.

"Remus Lupin," says the boy. "Are you all first years as well?”

"Yep," James chirps. "And before you go any further, I have to ask; do you have any emotional delusional attachment towards Slytherin?"

Remus wrinkles his nose in confusion, and for the first time Sirius notices pale scars running across the bridge. "No? I really don't mind what house I'm in. I'm just glad to be here."

Sirius looks at him in confusion, but James seems unfazed, launching into a (somewhat exaggerated) retelling of their interaction with the greasy haired boy, who they’re pretty sure is called Severus but who James insists on renaming Snivellus, "because he just _snivels_ , you know?" Sirius met James Potter and Peter Pettigrew while boarding the Hogwarts Express; they’d collided in the corridor, and it had only taken a few back-and-forth witty comments for the two to click. Sirius hasn’t spoken much to Peter yet, but the boy seems nervous and twitchy, something he himself has never been able to be. James has an easygoing energy that makes Sirius feel somehow more relaxed than he thinks he’s ever been, and after only half an hour he feels like he’s known the two forever. Remus is different. To start, he reminds himself, he’s only known the boy for a few minutes, unless you count the split second from the train window. But something about Remus is drawing him in, although he doesn’t understand what that might mean.

"Sirius!" James snaps in his face, pulling him out of his head. Laughing, Sirius pushes his hand away and refocuses on the compartment in front of him.

"What, you crazy tosser?"

"You just looked so content and relaxed, I had to ruin it," James grins. Sirius shoves him off the seat.


	2. Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the first years are sorted into their houses.

“Firs’ years! Over here, firs’ years!”

The bellowing yell of Hogwarts’ friendly half-giant can be heard over the din of students exiting the train in Hogsmade station. One hundred small black-cloaked eleven year olds hurry to the waiting man who towers over them at 8 feet 6 inches. There are some gasps of awe and an outburst of “Blimey, that is one tall bloke” before Rubeus Hagid addresses the first years.

“Alrigh’, you all firs’ years? No older kids lookin’ fer a laugh?” When no one answers he continues. “Name’s Hagrid. I’m keeper of keys an’ grounds at Hogwarts. Ye’ll be seein me ‘round a bi’. Now, all the other years go up ter the school in carriages, but fer yeh we got sumthin a little more special. Follow me, now, would yeh?” He leads the students to a flock of boats on the Black Lake. “Only four people ter a boat, yeh hear me? Watch yer step, now.”

Hagrid has done this job every September 1st for years now, but he never does tire of it. It’s his favorite part of his job, he thinks, watching the faces of the new students light up in awe and wonder as they see the castle for the very first time. He doesn’t think there’s anything quite like it, really, and he’ll never get tired of seeing it again.

~~~

The first years line up outside the Great Hall, a stern looking woman before them. She steps in front of the crowd of children and begins to speak. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet is about to begin, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is an incredibly important ceremony. While you attend Hogwarts, your House will be your family. You will have classes with them, sleep and live with them, and spend time in your House common room.” She gives a moment for the students to mumble excitedly, but, as she’s not a woman for dramatics or disorderliness, she then continues. “The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Outstanding witches and wizards have come from each House, so while a bit of House rivalry will be tolerated, extensive feuding will not.” Professor McGonagall looks sharply around at the first years as she says this; many seem to shrink back at the harsh, hawklike stare, but two black haired boys in the middle just smirk at each other. The Professor fights off a sigh. 

“While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. Each House has a teacher as Head of House. I’m Head of Gryffindor, Professor Sprout is Head of Hufflepuff, Professor Slughorn is head of Slytherin, and Professor Flitwick is Head of Ravenclaw. I do hope that each of you will contribute positively to whichever House becomes yours.

“Now, the Sorting is to begin, if you all will follow me.”

Professor McGonagall instructs the children into a line and leads them through the towering double doors and into the Great Hall. For the children, it's like the boats all over again; the awe and beauty is astounding even to the most unexcited of the bunch. Hundreds, maybe thousands of candles float below a ceiling that reflects the night sky outside, and four long tables packed with students stretch across the Hall. The Professor leads them to the front of the room, where another long table sits, this one facing the rest of the room and filled with teachers. Although almost all of the teachers are strangers to these new students, Albus Dumbledore is immediately recognizable from his seat at the center of the table, long beard positively flowing even in the lack of outside wind. Many also recognize the eight feet of Hagrid, and there are a few tentative waves in his direction. The first years are led past glittering goblets and whispering stares to the front, where there sits a stool, atop of which is a battered witch hat. Murmurs of confusion weave through the eleven year olds.

The hall is silent, clearly anticipating something, and you can almost feel the nerves wafting off the group of first years. Suddenly, the hat opens a mouthlike brim and begins to sing.

_Welcome all to Hogwarts_

_To those old and those new._

_The new ones specifically_

_Must be wondering what I do._

_Now you’ve been on the train ride_

_You’ve been in the boats_

_You’ve said your tearful goodbyes_

_And packed your books and coats._

_And I’m sure you’ve heard about the Houses,_

_For that is why I’m here_

_To sort you where you most belong_

_In your head it will be clear._

_You might belong in Ravenclaw_

_Where their brains and smarts pass all,_

_Or maybe instead Gryffindor,_

_Where bravery’s their call._

_Or you might be sent to Slytherin,_

_Where their wit and cunning ring true,_

_Or perhaps Hufflepuff,_

_Where there’s good in all they do._

_So come on up now, don’t be shy,_

_And place me on your head._

_I’ll show you where you truly belong,_

_Or lest let me drop dead!_

The Sorting Hat falls silent once more, and applause circles the room. Professor McGonagall steps forward, and at the sound of her voice, the Hall quiets.

“When I call your name, you will come sit on the stool to be sorted. Amell, Claire!”

Claire Amell cautiously goes up to the stool and places the hat upon her head. Seconds passed, and then-

“Hufflepuff!”

Claire scurries off the stool to the Hufflepuff table, and the sorting commences. 

“Black, Sirius!”

~~~

Sirius Black steps up to the front of the room, taking his seat on the stool. He can see way more familiar faces than he’d like staring back at him, all from the Slytherin table. Cousins, distant relatives, he has no idea. He focuses on breathing as the hat is shoved over his head. It’s going to be fine.

" _Another Black, huh?_ " The voice of the hat is practically menacing in Sirius’s ear. He works not to roll his eyes or grumble at the mention of his family.

" _But what's this? Oh, oh, ohh, you are not like the others, are you? Such a desire to set yourself apart...but also to stay connected. Conflicted like I've never seen...hmmmm.._."

"Come on, hat man, make a decision," he mumbles impatiently, as he is known to be. "The suspense is killing me."

" _Oh, persistent, are we? Slytherin could do great things for you, you know. Just like your family._ "

A surge of embarrassment and anger swims through Sirius before he can stop it.

" _No? Well then...better be..._ "

"GRYFFINDOR."

He’s in shock for a moment. Numbly, Sirius places the hat back onto the stool and tries to focus on the encouraging smile from James instead of the glares of shock coming from his relatives. He drops into a seat at the Gryffindor table, not listening to the continuing sorting or the surprised applause. All he can think of is how angry his mother will be. He's wanted to anger her, to set himself apart, but not like this. This is huge. No other Black of his knowledge has been something other than Slytherin. He’s going to be in so much trouble. Maybe they'll even blast him off the family tree. 

He’s spaced out in terror as "Bones, Amelia", "Crabbe, Irma", and who knows who else are sorted. He finally looks up just in time to see red hair flowing towards the stool as McGonagall calls,

"Evans, Lily!"

~~~

Lily walks on shaky legs up to the stool. The hat is dropped on her head.

" _Hmm, a muggleborn, eh?_ " the hat seems to whisper in her ear. Lily barely knows what this means; Severus has told her, of course, but hadn’t he said that it wasn’t a good thing to some people? 

"Yeah, and what's that got to do with anything?" She thinks back sharply. She’s only been in the wizarding world for a day and already she can tell how harsh of a prejudice this is.

The hat seems to laugh. " _Alright then. Better be..._ "

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Lily’s heart deflates slightly as she places the hat back on the stool. This isn't what they'd planned on. As Professor McGonagall calls out yet another name, she looks from to the Gryffindor table, where students are smiling and applauding her loudly. She looks to Severus as she makes her way to the table, and sends him a sad smile. The boy who had been sorted into Gryffindor before her. Sirius Black, scoots over on the bench to make room when she approaches. Upon closer inspection, she recognizes him as one of the obnoxious boys from the train, and she folds her arms and faces the other way.

An older boy with brown hair and kind eyes reaches across the table to shake Lily’s and Sirius's hands. "Frank Longbottom," he smiles, "second year. Welcome to Gryffindor." She smiles back, clapping politely as "Flint, Constance" is sorted into Slytherin.

After a few more first years, "Fortescue, Alice" is sorted into Gryffindor as well. Lily scoots over to make room on the bench for the girl with redwood-tree hair and sparkling eyes.

"Lily Evans," Lily introduces herself.

"Alice Fortescue," the other girl replies in a dreamy voice. Instead of shaking Lily’s hand or nodding at her, Alice pulls her into a warm hug, which Lily returns, laughing. "Isn't this so exciting?”

"So exciting," Lily smiles, attempting to turn her attention back to the sorting. "Galloway, Ethan" is sorted into Hufflepuff, "Jorkins, Bertha" to Ravenclaw, "Kane, Aiden" to Hufflepuff, and so on. Her mind is starting to wander off when she’s nearly pushed over by Sirius Black, who’s jumped in his seat in an attempt to see the front of the room better at the name "Lupin, Remus".

~~~

Remus walks up to the stool nervously. From his personal surveillance of the Hall during the time he'd been standing and waiting, he’s concluded that James is probably right about not wanting to be in Slytherin. They really don't look very friendly to him, and he doubts they'd take well to his...condition. He also spotts the sleek blond hair of the boy from the train. The boy sneers at him, and Remus suppresses a shudder.

The sorting hat practically covers his eyes, but out of the corner he can seeSirius Black, up on his feet and watching intently from the Gryffindor table. He fights off a smile.

" _Oh. Hm. Right. Well, I can see potential. Lots of it_ ." Remus’s heart swells at the unusual praise. " _Ahh, I see, you have quite the little problem on your hands, don't you?_ " He cringes at the entirely unwanted reminder. " _Intelligence beyond recognition, I see. You could do very well in Ravenclaw, you know. Set you on the path to greatness, it would."_

Ravenclaw. His father had been a Ravenclaw. It would only make sense for him to be sorted there as well. But then he cautiously opens an eye, and somehow it goes straight to Sirius. He’s sitting now, but staring intently, almost heatedly, through his raincloud eyes at where Remus sits. In his peripheral vision, he can see James mirroring the boy’s expression, but also bouncing on his toes in anticipation. 

He knows Ravenclaw is a good choice, that it makes sense. But something about Gryffindor is jumping out at him.

Or maybe it’s just that gray-eyed boy.

"Look, Hat...Man...sir-" He thinks at it, but it interrupts him.

" _No need, boy, I've heard it all. Well then, if you insist_."

"GRYFFINDOR."

Remus doesn’t realize he was holding his breath until he releases it, making his way to the Gryffindor table and squeezing in between Sirius and the redhead girl, who he thinks McGonagall had called Lily Evans. 

"Well done, mate!" Sirius exclaims, clapping Remus on the back. His excitement is infectious, and Remus grins at him before turning to introduce himself to the students around him. "Macdonald, Mary" is called, and everyone claps as she’s sorted into Gryffindor as well. Mary is a petite girl, with a pale, almost angelic face and long brunette hair that hangs in perfect curls past her shoulder blades.

"I hope James and Peter join us, don't you?" Sirius asks over the call of "Martinez, Anya!"

"Yeah, definitely-" ("Ravenclaw!") "but from what I know of James already, it's pretty set in stone."

"Meadows, Dorcas!"

Sirius barks out a laugh. ("Ravenclaw!") "Pretty much, yeah."

"McKinnon, Marlene!" 

Marlene McKinnon is a confident looking girl with tangled, dirty blond hair that somehow doesn't look ratty but instead seems to just add to her overall flamboyant energy. She

practically hops up onto the stool, and the hat is only on her head for a few seconds before it cries,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Everyone claps loudly, Sirius even stamping his feet as the girl practically skips over to the table and sits down opposite Lily. They engage in what begins as some polite conversation, but doesn't stay that way for long; Marlene is quick-witted and energetic, with a sharp, sarcastic sense of humor blossoming even at the age of eleven. They talk over the sorting, somewhat attempting to keep their voices down, until Sirius nudges Remus and gestures to the front of the room.

"Pettigrew, Peter!"

~~~

The hat covers Peter’s face completely. He knows he’s twitching with nerves, sitting there in front of everyone, but he can’t help it. Before the hat can even say anything, he’s praying, James’ face clear in his mind’s eye. 

_"Please Gryffindor, please Gryffindor."_ He can’t do this without James.

 _"Gryffindor?"_ the hat puzzles in his ear. " _Are you sure about that? Because I was thinking-"_

_"PleaseGryffindorpleaseGryffindorpleaseGryffindor."_

_"Fine then. If you insist."_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Peter can hear James' excited yelp from the ever-thinning clump of first years as he scurries over to the Gryffindor table, taking a seat across from Remus. He forces deep breaths of air into his lungs, half accepting congratulations from the students around him. This is what he wanted, he reminds himself. To be with James. What does it matter if a stupid hat thinks he belongs somewhere else? James is his best mate. His life ring. This is how it’s supposed to be.

“Potter, James!”

~~~

McGonagall’s sharp voice sends shock waves of excitement through James’s body. He musters up every ounce of confidence inside of him (which is quite a lot for an eleven-year-old), and struts up to the stool. He reminds himself that he’s James Potter, descendant of generations of past Gryffindors and owner of all its necessary qualities. The hat is placed on his head, held up from covering his face by his glasses, and he’s about to recite his overly practiced speech when it cries,

"GRYFFINDOR."

James laughs in surprise, hopping off the stool and running towards his new friends. "Knew it," he announces by way of greeting, sitting down beside Peter. "What'd I tell you lot?"

Sirius grins at him. "It didn't even take three seconds, mate. Do you really have that little going on up there?"

James shoves him over the table. "Yeah, well, yours took forever, was it searching for signs of life?" Sirius' reply is drowned out by cheers from the Slytherin table. "Who was that?"

"Evan Rosier," Remus informs them, craning to look over the heads of students at the boy making his way to his seat. "Dunno who he is."

"I do," Sirius grumbles. "Mum's tried forcing us into friendship loads of times. Never worked, if I might stress that. Too much pureblood crap for my taste."

James is about to reply when he’s shushed by Lily Evans, the girl from the train. "Please, Potter, I can't hear." She’s craning her neck towards the front of the room and he follows her gaze to the greasy haired boy currently approaching the stool. 

"Ah, Evans, your boyfriend? You can do better than that, can't you?" 

Lily Evans shoots him the most menacing look he’s ever seen, and Marlene McKinnon shoves her fist against her mouth to suppress her giggles. Mouthing "Yikes" to Remus, Sirius, and Peter, he turns his attention back up front just in time to see the hat call out "SLYTHERIN."

"Good riddance," James mutters. The boy, who James can only think to describe as ‘stringy’, trudges to the Slytherin table while throwing disappointed looks to Lily. "I'd like to be able to shower less than once every few hours from being around him." This earns him yet another glare from the redheaded girl across from him.

The sorting continues on for another fifteen minutes or so, until everyone is practically growling along with our stomachs. Finally, the last student is seated, Professor McGonagall clears away the stool and the hat with a swish of her wand, and the old man who can only be Albus Dumbledore rises from the middle of the staff table. His beard is white as snow, and reaches almost to his waist, and his glittering robes match the color of the night sky projected across the ceiling of the Great Hall. He smiles at the room through half-moon spectacles, wrinkles lining his eyes.

“Welcome, new students, to your first night at Hogwarts. And, of course, welcome back to our old students as well. I’m sure you’re all ready to tuck in to our delicious feast, but I must ask you to restrain yourselves for just a few minutes more.

I’d like us all to give a warm welcome back to Professor Kettleburn, who has returned at last from his adventures to take back the post of teaching Care of Magical Creatures.” The room applauds as Professor Kettleburn stands and waves. He seems to have only one arm, with the other being made out of assorted metals. James and Sirius nudge each other in awe. “Furthermore,” the Headmaster continues, “our caretaker, Mr. Filch, would like me to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest on the edge of the grounds is, as it is named, strictly forbidden. Our groundskeeper, Hagrid, will be ensuring that no one enters the Forest unless clearly specified by a teacher.” Hagrid makes to stand, waving and smiling widely, but his massive body nearly knocks over the table, sending the incredibly short man next to him tumbling to the ground. The Hall erupts into murmurs of laughter, only to be silenced by the requesting wave of Dumbledore’s hand. “Quidditch tryouts will be held at the beginning of next month, so please seek your Head of House if you are interested in being on the team.” James sits up, suddenly alert. “I’m afraid only Second Years and above are eligible for the team, but we’ll all get our chances.”

James could swear that Dumbledore is looking at him as he says this, blue eyes twinkling. “That’s rubbish,” James mutters.

“And now, as I know your stomachs are all pleading to be fed, let the Feast begin!” The Great Hall applauds as Dumbledore takes his seat once again, and when James looks back at the table, he finds it covered in more food than he could ever have imagined. It seems to have appeared out of nowhere, bowls of and platters of different delectables wherever he turns his head. Peter has dug in already, stuffing his face like there’s no tomorrow. Sirius, ever the well-bred gentleman, is neatly placing food on his plate, while Remus is staring at the table in awe. James fills his own plate, taking a warm bite, unable to wipe the giddy smile off his face.

He feels at home.


	3. The Whomping Willow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus gets some reassurance, and proceeds to make dumb decisions.

Gryffindor Tower is guarded by a large painting of a rather round woman who everyone seems to call the Fat Lady. Remus finds this to be surprising and rather rude, but she seems to be unfazed by it. The Gryffindor Prefects lead the group of thrilled, overstuffed First Years through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. The room is gorgeous, and feels almost too inviting. Tables line the front half of the side walls, surrounded by wooden chairs and holding candles and spare inkwells. The middle of the floor is covered by a plush red rug that circles almost the entire floor, and there are squishy armchairs in shades of red and gold scattered across the floor. On the far wall is the biggest fireplace Remus has ever seen (he thinks he could probably fit inside of it, standing up straight, at least five times), inside of which is a roaring fire, and there are massive windows overlooking the night sky on either side. In the far corners of the room are two doorways, and Remus can see a winding staircase through each of them. 

“Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room!” announces Bilius Weasely. The Fifth Year Prefect has bright red hair and crinkled lines that appear on his face when he smiles, which he seems to do a lot. “The girls’ dormitories are through there,” he points to the doorway to the right, “and the boys’ are there,” he points to the doorway to the left. “I’d suggest unpacking tonight, classes start tomorrow!”

Only now does Remus realize how exhausted he is, and he longs for a bed to collapse in. The day’s been a roller coaster of emotions and newness, and he’s ready for it to come to a close. He hurries after Sirius, James, and Peter to the left staircase, only to be caught on the arm by Bilius. Remus looks up into the older boy’s warm, friendly, honey-brown eyes nervously, and the other three boys stop to wait for him.

"Remus Lupin, right?” Bilius asks, and Remus nods mutely. “McGonagall wants to see you in her office. Shouldn't take long, but I'll walk you there so you know where it is." 

Remus mumbles something along the lines of an ‘ok’ and turns back towards the portrait hole. He should have known this was coming.

"Hey mate, do you care which bed we leave you, or should we wait until you're back to decide?" The kind voice of James Potter comes over his shoulder as he makes to leave.

"I don't mind, just leave me any of them."

He doesn't want to look at them, for fear they'll read right through him and notice that he knows exactly what the Professor is calling him for and question it. And he knows he’s not a good enough liar for that level of confrontation.

He follows Bilius out of the portrait hole and out into the hallway, only half listening to him ramble on about different teachers and classes and who knows what else as they walk through corridor after corridor, past tapestries and paintings full of moving subjects and animals he’s never heard of in his life. He’s sure that, at some point, he’ll want to come back through and explore, but at this moment he’s much too busy worrying.

Remus had been so excited about just the prospect of coming to Hogwarts that of course his eleven year old brain hadn't thought about the problems that might arise. First of all, there are the boys in his room. Won’t they notice when he’s absent from their room and from classes once a month? He knows that the teachers have been informed of his condition, but what if he falls behind on his schoolwork?

The most pressing issue at that moment, however, is what they were going to do with him once a month. You see, when you're a child with a rare condition, you try to find out as much as you possibly can about it. Of course, Remus had ended up regretting some of that. Stories of people being locked up in cages and restrained to walls flash through his mind, and a feeling of nausea sets in. The last thing he wants to do is to go back to the dark, cold room at home, but if they’re going to handcuff him to the ceiling--

Remus is interrupted from his worrying when they come to a halt in front of a wooden door. Bilius smiles at him.

"Think you know how to get back OK now?"

"Uh..." No. He hasn't been focusing on where they were going at all. He might as well have been walking with his eyes closed. He curses himself for it now.

"Well, you can get a teacher to show you, yeah? I've got to get back. Good luck." With a pat on the shoulder and one last brotherly grin, Bilius sets off down the corridor.

Remus stares at the door in front of him and takes a deep breath. He can do this.

He opens the door to the office to find not one, not two, but three sets of eyes staring back at him, and he resists the urge to turn on his heel and run for it. He recognizes Professor McGonagall, as this is her office, and Professor Dumbledore in all his bearded glory standing nearby. The third he doesn't recognize, a younger witch with curly hair and white medical robes. “ _ Oh Merlin _ ,” he thinks, “ _ they really are about to drug me up.” _

Professor Dumbledore steps forward and shakes his hand. "Ah, Mr. Lupin. Thank you for joining us," he begins in that wistful way of his that makes you wonder whether or not he’s truly present in this universe at the moment. "I trust you know Professor McGonagall by now, your new Head of House and Transfiguration teacher." Professor McGonagall gives Remus a nod, and he manages back a weak but polite smile. "This is Madam Pomfrey," the Headmaster continues as the witch steps forward to shake his hand, "our resident nurse. She's going to be taking care of any little pains you have in general over your time here at Hogwarts, but specifically your injuries that come as a result of your transformations. There are many, as I understand it?" He looks at Remus expectantly.

"Oh-er...yes, well, some months are better than others...but overall...yes I do get a good amount I suppose...."

"Yes, I thought as much. But now for the real reason why you're here." The Headmaster looks at him square in the eyes from behind his half moon glasses and speaks in a clear, firm voice. "When I accepted you into this school, Mr. Lupin, I vowed that I would, as Headmaster, protect you from all 

harm, just as I do with all of the other students who attend this school. I told you that I'd make sure that there would be a safe way for you to live and thrive here, and I have done as such. The staff at this school will be accommodating for you, and all we're striving for is an easy, safe solution." He looks around at the two witches on the other side of the room. "Professor McGonagall, as your Head of House, has assured me that your teachers are aware of your situation."

Professor McGonagall nods in confirmation. "You will be given accommodations as we see fit, Mr. Lupin, provided that you do not take advantage of our help." 

Remus manages a nod, and a weak "of course." Dumbledore claps his hands.

"Now then, if that's settled, Minerva, thank you for the use of your office. Poppy, I'll let you return to your work." He turns back to Remus. "And you, Mr. Lupin. Come with me." The Headmaster leads him out of the office, midnight blue robes swishing behind him as he turns out of the doorway.

They walk in silence for the first minute or so. To say that Remus is intimidated would be quite the understatement. He has no idea where he’s going, no idea how to get back, and no idea if he should be taking up a conversation with the Headmaster at the moment. What would he even say?  _ I like your beard? _

"Do you have a favorite food, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus nearly jumps three feet in the air. "Huh? Oh, yes sir. I like chocolate."

"Ah, a good choice. I personally have always been partial to lemon drops. A muggle candy, but what can I say? Any particular reason?"

"Oh, umm...not really." A lie. But he’s not about to tell his new Headmaster the real reason. He remembers the taste of that cake his mother used to make, back before he was bitten. How he loved the gooey chocolate that melted in his mouth with every bite. How she stopped making it, after. How he had assumed that it was because she had too much to worry about, what with him becoming a premature monster once a month. He remembers that day, when he must have been no more than six, how he walked into the kitchen to find Hope Lupin hovered over a book with tears in her eyes. How there was a big black plastic garbage bag beside her, and when she left the room, he saw that it was filled with every chocolate-containing item in their kitchen. How when he’d looked at the book, it had been open to a page about canines, stating that chocolate was deadly for them. How he’d begun sneaking bits of it after that, and how it never did anything to the--to his other self. How he never did stop trying.

"Here we are." Dumbledore has stopped on the grounds of the school, a little ways away from the castle, in front of a monstrosity of a tree. The branches are long and thick, and they sway almost menacingly in the night wind. Remus looks up at the professor, confused.

"Um, not to be rude or anything sir, but what's a tree got to do with my...er...problem?"

Instead of answering, Dumbledore picks up a rock from the ground and throws it at the tree with a surprising display of agility for someone of his age. When the rock hits one of the branches, all hell breaks loose. Remus jumps back in shock as the tree begins thrashing wildly, slamming branches against the ground and slashing through the air. After a few seconds of chaos, Dumbledore points his wand calmly at the tree, causing it to still.

"What...was that?"

"This tree has been bewitched to attack anyone who comes close enough to touch it, making it ideal protection for you. Do you see that knot on the trunk? When pushed, that knot immobilizes the tree and opens up a secret passageway that leads to a secure location for you to transform in."

Remus can only stare in shock. All of this because of him? He has to ask one question. "Professor, you're not going to...restrain me or anything, right?"

Professor Dumbledore eyes him with a gaze full of sympathy. "Of course not, Mr. Lupin. You will be very much free, excluding the fact that you'll be safely inside a house." Remus nods, relieved, and releases his hands that have been wringing each other tightly in fear. "Now, I do know that I've kept you from a wondrous night of bonding and unpacking, so let us now return you to your dormitory."

The two walk up to Gryffindor Tower in silence. As they approach the painting of the Fat Lady, Remus looks up at the Headmaster.

"Professor, I do have one question."

"And what might that be, Mr. Lupin?"

"Does the tree have a name?"

Somehow, Dumbledore seems unfazed at the question. "Why no, it doesn't. We among the staff have been calling it the Weeping Willow, for lack of a better name."

Remus snorts. "More like Whomping Willow, I'd say."

Dumbledore chuckles. "Indeed. I do think that has a nice ring to it. Now, in you go. Cornucopia," he addresses the painting, who swings open to reveal the hole leading to the Common Room.

"Thank you, sir."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Lupin."

Remus ambles up to the dormitory, a million thoughts going through his head at once. When he opens the door, he’s met with what looks like a half hurricane of assorted belongings, with three boys meandering about, putting things away. James glances up as he walks in.

"Hiya, Remus! That took you awhile. We left you the bed by the door, if that's ok."

Remus simply nods. If there’s one conclusion he’s come to in the last hour, it’s that it will be easier to avoid questions if he’s not obligated to answer. Meaning, the more he distances himself from people, the less he’ll have to explain. So he doesn't reply, instead making his way over to his four poster bed to begin unpacking his belongings.

The dormitory is shaped like an almost hexagon, with a bathroom leading through a door off the left wall. The bed James mentioned is positioned in the corner to the right of the entrance, a four-poster dressed in red bedsheets with matching curtains hanging around it for privacy. There’s a bookshelf and a set of drawers next to it, and his trunk is sitting shabbily at the foot of the bed. Sirius seems to have taken the bed in the further right corner, and James the one diagonal to him, leaving Peter across to the left. There’s a window on the wall between Remus and Sirius’s beds, which Remus can tell leads out to a small section of roof just big enough to sit on, though he doubts they’re allowed.

Another half hour or so goes by, during which Sirius and James joke around with each other (this resulting in a pillow fight, which leaves Peter being knocked over and James having to magically repair his glasses about four times), Peter organizes and reorganizes his things in approximately three different ways, and Remus avoids everyone's eyes, working in silence. Finally, it seems they’re all at a stopping point, and so they get ready for bed. Remus is about to get under the covers when Sirius asks, "Hey mate, what'd McGonagall want anyway?"

No use in trying to be nice if he’s going to avoid them anyway. "None of your business."

"Hey, I was just curious. You don't have to get mad."

"Well, I don't have to tell you everything, either. We're not friends." Remus pulls the curtains closed around his bed and buries his face in the pillow. I can hear Sirius's surprised scoff before his footsteps sound into the bathroom and he shuts the door behind him with a snap.


	4. Things Sirius Black Doesn't Like to Talk About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius receives a letter and James is beyond confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of verbal abuse and terrible parenting

_ We're not friends. _

The words have been ringing in Sirius’s ears nonstop since last night. He'd been up half the night with his head under the pillow, trying to block them out, and up the other half worrying about today. If there's one thing Sirius knows about his mother, or the Black family in general (distant intermarried relatives and all), it's that they don't do anything subtly. And they're big on rules. Not school rules or wizard laws or anything. Their rules.

He sighs, shuffling through the doors of the Great Hall for breakfast. James and Peter are beside him, Remus trailing a little behind. James had tried to include Remus in their conversation (not that there was much of one, as they’re all half asleep), but Remus had ignored him and James had dropped it. Sirius is learning that James Potter is an impossibly loyal and thoughtful person, something that he thinks will probably be good for him if they’re going to be friends. Sirius thinks that James seems like the kind of person who would repair a wall for you after you punched it--or your hand if the wall won--no questions asked. It’s wonderful, but also incredibly jarring, as he’s never been around anyone like that before.

_ We're not friends. _

Sirius groans and clutches his head, as if it can block out the noise somehow. James sends him a look. "The voices acting up?" he jokes.

_ You have no idea _ . "Something like that." 

The four of them sit down at the Gryffindor table just as the girls start coming into the hall; Marlene looking dead on her feet, Mary somehow all nice and ready, Alice sort of floating (which Sirius is coming to realize is her usual form of travel), and Lily with eyes only for the food covering the breakfast tables. They sit down and Marlene immediately slumps over so that her head is resting on the table, blond hair askew on her plate. Mary wrinkles her nose and pokes her friend, attempting to wake her up.

"Sleep well last night ladies?" James asks around a bite of toast. This is met with a mix of "Wonderful", "Marlene snores", "Chew with your mouth closed, Potter", and "Nngggmmpphhh". Sirius lets out a sharp breath of laugh, about to reply, when there’s a call of "Mail!" and everyone looks up to see owls flying down through the windows, each holding a letter or a parcel.

"Blimey, that was quick," James chatters excitedly. "I only wrote to Mum and Dad last night. I do suppose we're not all that far away though..."

Sirius isn't listening. His eyes are trained on the sleek, black owl flying at him. The Black family owl, or one of them anyway. They all look the same, and none of them have names. Walburga Black is weird like that. 

The owl drops a letter into his waiting palm, and his heart drops so far, it’s probably in Hawaii. One look at the bright red envelope and he’s panicking. This is it. "Crap," he mutters, using his eleven year old version of a swear word. He jumps up from the table. He only has another minute, at most.

"You ok, mate?" James asks, looking up from his own letter in concern. 

"I'm fine....uh- I gotta go-" Sirius spews out some gibberish about who knows what and high-tails it out of the Great Hall. He doesn't stop running until he gets out onto the grounds, and he can feel the letter shaking in his fist. Leaning against the castle wall, he opens it with shaking hands.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!"

Sirius cringes, Walburga's shrill screams filling his ears. He tries to focus on breathing.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH SHAME YOU'VE CAUSED? GRYFFINDOR? NO SON OF MINE BELONGS IN GRYFFINDOR. YOU'RE A DISGRACE TO THE FAMILY NAME. A DISAPPOINTMENT. ONE MORE SLIP UP AND YOU'LL BE BLASTED OFF THE FAMILY TREE, AS YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN YEARS AGO. YOU'RE NOTHING MORE THAN AN EMBARRASSMENT."

The letter keeps going, but Sirius stops listening. He slides down the wall until he’s curled up in a ball against it, head in his hands. This is it. No more chances, no more hope for him. This was his shove off the deep end, the very last straw. 

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, shoulders shaking. He’s scared, of course he’s scared, but he’s also angry. Angry that she can get to him like this. Angry that he can’t take it. Angry that life is like this at all. He’s not sure when the letter ended, but it’s laying dead by his feet. In his anger, he picks up the letter and tears it into tiny pieces. He crumples them up and throws them as hard as he can. He kicks the castle wall, again and again.

Finally, Sirius is exhausted. And hungry. He’s so hungry. He stands up, wiping all traces of a breakdown away from his face, and turns to head back inside, only to collide with Remus Lupin.

"What are you doing?" Sirius growls. Remus backs up in surprise, wringing his hand around his arm.

"Uh, looking for you?" He says it like a question, like he isn't entirely sure that's what he’s doing. "I wan- I mean, James wants to know if you're ok...and um...there's only five minutes left of breakfast...er, here’s your schedule." He shoves a piece of paper into Sirius’s hand, avoiding eye contact.

Sirius narrows his eyes. He’s not great at keeping his anger in check. "So? Why are you out here? I'm fine. And it's not like we're friends anyway."

Remus's face closes over. He's gotten the message. Sirius hates himself a little bit for this, but right now all he wants is some toast, and for everyone to leave him alone.

"Right," Remus mumbles, and turns on his heel, leaving Sirius fuming behind him.

~~~

The breakfast table is tense to say the least after Sirius runs off, leaving James staring after him, bewildered, letter from home in one hand and a knife dripping jam onto the table in the other. He looks around. The Great Hall is littered with students, engaging in slow early-morning conversations and eating their breakfasts. He sees two older girls at the Slytherin table staring through the doors Sirius just left through, and one of them, a mean-looking girl with piles of curly black hair, spies him watching and glares. James turns quickly back to his table. Alice is reading a letter from home with a small smile on her face, Mary is concernedly holding up a half-asleep Marlene, Peter is digging into his food like there’s no tomorrow, Lily’s taking turns eating and pointedly ignoring his existence, and Remus looks like he’s waging an internal war with himself. Or maybe he just ate something bad. Before James can question it, the Hall doors open.

Two tall boys with dark red hair and knit sweaters come running in at top speed, waving sheets of paper. "CLASS SCHEDULES!" "GET EM WHILE THEY'RE HOT!!" They race around, tossing papers onto tables like clumsy, overgrown flower girls. When they reach the table where James and his mates sit, one of them sends him a wink. James grins. Lily rolls her eyes.

"Mr. and Mr. Prewett!" 

The clipped voice of Professor McGonagall rings out over the voices in the hall. The boys, presumably twins, look at each other with sheepish grins and trudge off towards the awaiting professor. 

James grabs at the papers on the table. "Sweet, we've got Charms first with Hufflepuff. That'll be nothing."

Peter glances up from his food, a horrified look on his face. "Easy for you to say! I bet I'll be rubbish at everything." 

James is used to this, having been friends with the boy for so long. He’ll never understand why Pete worries so much. "Aw, don't worry, mate, I'll help you. Remus will, too, won't you, Remus?" 

Remus shrugs, clearly barely listening. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. For sure."

Lily Evans is looking over the schedule, before her eyes find something that makes them perk up. James opens his mouth to question her when Remus stands up, grabs a class schedule or two, and walks out of the Hall. James looks around the table for an explanation, but all he gets is light snoring from Marlene, who now has her head on an upset-looking Mary's shoulder.

~~~

James Potter is confused. Bewildered. Stumped. Every other word for  _ what in Merlin's soggy socks _ is happening. Less than 24 hours ago, they'd all been getting along great. Now it seems that he’s the only one even making an effort to speak. Sirius and Remus haven't so much as looked at each other since they returned to the Great Hall, and now, with only one class left for the day, James is just this close to losing it. What had happened to the bond the four of them had made on the train? He resists the urge to slap them both across the back of the head as they walk through the dungeon doors and into the Potions classroom.

Lots of Slytherins and a few Gryffindors are already seated at the grouped tables around the room. The walls are covered in jars of slimy, squishy looking things. He nudges Sirius, who’s next to him. "Think of all the chaos we could cause if we got our hands on those," James murmurs. He’s sure Sirius cracks a smile. 

Professor Slughorn is a rather round man with an enviable mustache, and James thinks he’s sort of vain (but then again, who is he to talk?). After a quite extensive welcome, everyone splits into pairs to prepare the first assignment; a sleeping potion. James is paired with Sirius, and the two work together in a somewhat comfortable silence (comfortable for most people, but James does love to talk). Eventually, Slughorn meanders over to their table to look at their progress.

"Oh ho, looks like we've got ourselves some potioneers over at this table! What's your name, young man?" He looks at Sirius expectantly.

"Sirius Black, sir," says Sirius in a slightly reluctant tone. His face falls further as Slughorn's lights up.

"Oh ho, so you're the Black in Gryffindor. A shame you didn't come to my House like all the others, they really are something. No one else in your family who hasn't been Slytherin, is that correct?"

Sirius nods, looking like he'd much like to dump all of their potions contents on the Professor and make him sleep for eternity. "Yes, sir."

Before Slughorn can respond, both Alice and James start to ask for his help at the same time. Sending her a grateful look, James lets him go over to her side of the table, turning instead to Sirius, who’s glaring holes in Slughorn's back.

"You alright, mate?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Is denial your way of hiding from Mummy, Black?" a voice from the next table sneers. The two boys turn to see the greasy exterior of Severus Snape smirking at them from around his cauldron. 

"What was that, Snape?" Sirius asks in a low voice.

"Oh, just that I know about your family, Black. And I know how they deal with..." He looks Sirius up and down, sneer intensifying by the second. "Disappointments."

Deep anger flashes across Sirius's face, but before he can do anything, a shrill, "Severus!" rings from their other side. Lily Evans is glaring holes into her friend. James doesn't stop to listen to her confrontation, even though he does suppress a smile at the sight of Snape’s red flushed face. Instead, he grabs Sirius by the shoulders, turning the boy to face him.

"Hey, hey, c'mon mate, it's ok."

"No," Sirius growls, "it's not ok. I'm gonna-"

"Before you do anything stupid," James smirks, a plan forming in his mind, "might I suggest something stupider?"


	5. Shenanigans of First-Year Mischief Makers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lily gets angry, Peter gets nervous, and Remus relents in the name of chocolate.

"JAMES POTTER, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE BLOODY KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW."

Remus looks up, startled, from his seat on an armchair in the corner of the common room to see a maddeningly angry Lily Evans storm through the portrait hole. James peers up at her from the middle of the floor, where he’s refereeing an intense match of Exploding Snap between Sirius and Peter, and smiles at her innocently (although completely unconvincingly).

"Yes, ma'am!" He salutes her sharply, making Peter giggle. Lily marches towards them with the power of an army general (ironically, in Remus’s opinion) and stands over them menacingly.

"Would you care to explain to me," she snarls through gritted teeth, "why Severus and a whole group of other Slytherins are currently in the Hospital Wing, covered in  _ mysterious nasty boils _ ?"

Remus snorts, hoping she can't hear him. James seems like he’s working to keep a straight face. "Why no, Evans. I couldn't possibly have had anything to do with that. Why ever would you think such a thing?" Peter looks like he’s on the brink of exploding with suppressed laughter, round cheeks become more and more flushed by the second, and Sirius leans back on his hands, smirking. 

Lily has a look on her face that suggests that she would very much like to grab James by the neck and toss him off the astronomy tower. "Don't play dumb with me, Potter. I heard you in Potions yesterday."

"So what if it was me? It's just a prank."

"Just a prank? Do you even realize what you've done? You've basically started an all out war between our Houses! When I visited Severus, the other Slytherins were already plotting ways to get back at us! Not just you and your accomplices Potter, but the entirety of our House! And over nothing!"

James stops smiling. "Nothing?" he repeats, standing up to face her fully. "He insulted Sirius! I had to do something! Sirius is my friend!"

It’s clear how much this impacts Sirius. The slight shock on his face morphs into gratitude and a deep happiness that Remus finds himself fully envying. Sirius looks at him suddenly, and catches him staring before he can look away, cocking an eyebrow. Remus buries his face in his book. 

"And Severus is mine! I could have worked this out with him without starting an inter-House rivalry!"

"It was just a prank! Merlin's pants, calm down!"

Everyone cringes a little at that. Clearly, James Potter has no idea how not to morally offend someone in an argument.

"God, you are so immature," Lily sighs, starting to turn away. "I'm done arguing with you about this, Potter, but if you don't take credit for that and make sure the Slytherins know it was all you, I swear I will turn you in to Professor McGonagall with hard evidence."

James nods, looking mildly terrified. Remus can't blame him. Lily Evans is scary.

~~~

As with most arguments between children, the tension from Lily and James's fades rather quickly. By the time dinner rolls around, James and Sirius have taken full credit for the prank and the only remnant of the spectacle is Lily throwing him annoyed looks every once in a while, which she tends to do often anyways.

"If I could have your attention please." The clear old voice of the Headmaster rings over the noise in the Great Hall, which quiets almost instantly. Remus will forever be astounded at how this man can be so incredibly barmy and still hold so much power.

"Before we tuck in to this delicious dinner, I have one announcement regarding a new addition to our school's grounds. As many of you may or may not have noticed, a new tree has been planted on the South side of the school, a little ways away from the Quidditch pitch." Remus holds his breath, wondering what Dumbledore is going to say and praying beyond belief that it doesn't mention anything to do with him. "While this tree may look friendly, I can assure you that it's anything but. There has been a spell put on it that causes it to attack anyone who comes close enough, and I cannot stress enough how important it is for you to stay away from it. We've decided to name this tree the Whomping Willow. Anyone who goes near enough to it to be in harm's way will be facing major danger and consequences. Now, let us all fill our stomachs!" 

Dumbledore sits down, and everyone politely applauds. Remus lets out a breath and turns back to the table to see James and Sirius shaking with laughter. 

"The Whomping Willow!" James chokes out. "That is bloody brilliant!"

"Whoever came up with that is a bloody genius!" Sirius agrees, still chuckling.

For the first time in almost two days, Remus cracks a real smile.

~~~

The next few days pass in a gracious calm, which is a relief for Peter. He’s beginning to think that everyone must have gone to some information session or something that he wasn’t invited to, because it’s only been a handful of days of school and he’s already overwhelmed. He doesn’t think Hogwarts should be allowed to have this many classes at once, or to give homework this early in the year (or ever, if it were up to him). He’s a disaster at most of his classes, but that could also be a result of comparison to James. James seems to be able to get everything he ever attempts right on the very first go, while Peter’s spellwork is consistently weak.

“You’re overthinking it,” Sirius informs him in Charms one day, when Peter’s color-changing charm fails to turn his yellow fedora purple for what must be the millionth time (of course Sirius and James had achieved this almost instantaneously, now taking turns charming each other’s hats multi-color patterns). “Just don’t worry about it so much, it’s quite simple if you just go with it.” Peter thanks him, biting back a million questions about how in the name of Merlin that’s supposed to help, and grumbles the incantation once again. His fedora shudders, fading to a nasty vomit color before turning back to yellow again.

Surprisingly, Herbology is his best subject, probably because it involves little-to-no spell work. Professor Sprout is a sweet, warm woman, slightly round around her middle, and she nurtures the plants in the greenhouses as if they’re her children. (James and Sirius find this hilarious, and often mock her in private, but Peter finds it endearing.) He finds the greenhouses calming, and only wishes he could be this at ease in his other studies.

James and Sirius have been spending a great amount of time together lately, something that makes Peter flare with jealousy even though he has no right to. It’s not as if they’re excluding him, not by any stretch of imagination. They’re always asking if he’d like to go explore somewhere or put Bubotuber pus in someone’s lunch or whatever they happen to be up to. But Peter always refuses, too anxious for an adventure like that, opting to stay safely in the dormitory while they put themselves in danger. But it’s starting to eat away at his confidence every time he watches them leave together, giggling and plotting. He wonders if Sirius is going to replace him, and the thought makes him shrivel up inside. He used to think he had a special friendship with James, knowing him since childhood and whatnot, but now he worries it’s slipping away.

He’s pondering this now, laying on his back atop his four-poster, staring at the red canopy, when Remus Lupin comes bounding into the room. Remus still hasn’t opened up much to the three of them,

and is usually to be found reading in the common room when James and Sirius are gone. He and Peter have played a few minimal-conversation games of chess, but Remus keeps to himself otherwise. Which is why Peter bolts upright when the other boy addresses him now.

“Hey, Pete.” Remus is leaning against the door frame when Peter sits up, blood rushing to his head.

“H-hey, Remus,” Peter manages, squeezing his eyes shut until the dizziness ceases.

"James and Sirius are downstairs complaining about being hungry,” Remus explains, “and James won't leave me alone until they've 'conquered the quest of their stomachs'." He rolls his eyes. "Any ideas?"

Peter almost jumps in excitement, realizing he can actually help with this."Um, well, I know how to get down to the kitchens-"

"DID SOMEONE SAY KITCHENS?!"

"Bloody hell, James, you'd think we were out of earshot."

James skids into the room, out of breath, a laughing Sirius behind him. "So," he looks at Peter expectantly, "what was that about kitchens, Pete?"

"Well, I know how to get to them, you just have to tickle the pear on the tapestry with the fruit bowl on the first floor, and the house elves are really nice if you're nice to them..."

"Yes! Peter Pettigrew, you are a lifesaver!" James exclaims, and Peter fills with pride.

Sirius grins, wiping faux tears from his eyes. "I could kiss you!"

James cracks up, and Peter turns beet red. Thankfully, Sirius makes no move toward him.

"Come oooon, Remus, you never come with us!" James is wrapped around one of Remus' arms, attempting to pull him out the dormitory door. Remus appears to be trying not to smile. 

"Fine. But if there's no chocolate, I'm turning around and coming back."

James hoots triumphantly and throws an arm around Peter’s shoulders. 

"To the kitchens!"

~~~

_ And that’s all I’ve been up to this week. I hope you all are doing well. Please let me know if the owls become too much and I'll ask a Professor about sending this by our post. I love you and miss you all. Give Oliver a hug for me, I miss his furry face. _

_ Lots of love, _

_ Lily _

Lily signs the letter and folds it up, sighing. She’s trying to be normal with my family, as her parents have sent her two letters already, but there’s been none from her sister. It seems like Petunia is still angry, which breaks Lily’s heart.

Maybe Lily will write her tomorrow.

"What's got you looking so sad, Lil?" Lily glances up at Mary, who’s looking at her concernedly in the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"Nothing, just family stuff." 

Mary's gaze turns sympathetic. "I get it. I'm muggleborn too, you know. They just don't understand, right?" Lily nods. 

Mary tosses her perfect dark curls over her shoulder and comes to sit on the floor next to Marlene, who’s doing Charms homework. She sighs. "They're always just a little out of reach, huh?"

"Like there's a veil between me and them, and no one can take it down," Lily adds. "My sister isn't happy about it."

"How old is she?" Marlene asks, picking her head up from her work. "I've always wanted a sister. All I've got are brothers. Two older, and one younger. The older two've already graduated, and the younger one'll be coming here when we're fifth years."

"She's a year and a half older than me."

Lily’s learned a lot about her new roommates in the last week. Marlene is from a big wizarding family, and she’s spunky, loud, and sarcastic, but also fiercely loyal and protective. When Lily told her about her situation with Severus, Mary had to put an arm around the girl to make sure she didn't go hunt him down. She’s slightly rebellious, with a mean streak in her sarcastic humor that’s taken them all a little while to get used to (this time has consisted of a lot of awkward silences broken with "I didn't mean that!"). But she and Lily are becoming close very quickly.

Mary’s an only child from a muggle family who lives in London. She's spent the last few years at a fancy all-girls school, where they learned manners and how to fold napkins. Marlene thinks this is barbarous, and since coming to Hogwarts has attempted to assist Mary in neglecting her old proper ways. Mary is slowly learning, but still keeps a love of looking fancy and put-together at all times.

Alice is the quieter one of the group, but she’s as sweet as they come. The single child from a pureblood family, she carries around a calming energy with her wherever she goes, and can often be seen doodling plants on her schoolwork or charming flowers to stay fresh forever. Lily finds her presence incredibly grounding, and already loves her immensely. 

She can tell that Marlene is noticing her upset demeanor, and of course the girl responds in signature Marlene fashion. "C'mon, Lils! We're here! Leave all the negativity at home. Forget about your family problems. They'll still be there at Christmas!” Alice looks up from where she’s drawing a beautifully intricate flower and laughs. “Let's do something fun!"

Lily sends her a look. "What, like maybe finishing your homework?"

Marlene groans, tossing her head back dramatically. "Homework is so boring and confusing. You're good at Charms, Lily. Do it for me?"

Lily laughs, moving to sit up on her bed. "How can I say no to that face? Come here, what do you need help with?"

"THIS!" 

Without warning, Marlene pounces, landing directly on top of Lily on her bed, and, for the love of God, starts tickling her. 

"MARLENE- MICKINNON-" Lily gasps between laughs. "ALICE! MARY! HELP ME!"

The other two girls both run over to try and pull Marlene off, but instead she turns to them, hands raised. "You threatening me? Hm?"

"No!" Mary shrieks as the Marlene Tickle Monster attacks her instead. Lily rolls with laughter as the two of them fall on the bed. "Help me, you traitors!" She’s laughing too hard to help, but suddenly there’s a thump and Marlene looks up in shock. Lily and Mary follow her gaze to see a timidly grinning Alice holding a pillow above her. After a few moments of surprise, Marlene lets out a battle cry and tackles Alice onto the bed. Grinning, Lily dives in after them, all sadness and homesickness forgotten. 


	6. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus hurts and Sirius stresses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: explicit descriptions of pain and injuries

Remus has been a wreck lately.

It’s to be expected, of course, he’s accustomed to the short temper and ravenous hunger and the aches and pains that come with full moons. It’s not as if this is his first one. But it’s new, and so different, to have to navigate it all while being at Hogwarts. Remus knows he’s been overly irritable to his roommates the last few days, but he supposes it might be helpful; he’s been letting his guard down much more than he initially planned. This way, he doesn’t even have to try. The three boys are incredibly nosy anyways.

Remus is on his way out the dormitory door the night of the full moon when James stops him, popping his head up from where he’s pouring over a Quidditch magazine on his bed, glasses halfway down his nose.

"Where are you going, mate? It's not dinner for another half hour."

James has, by far, been the most tolerant of Remus’s terrible attitude over the last couple of days. He seems to want to get to know Remus, but Remus puts that down to James not being able to handle someone not liking him, because he's James Potter, and so obviously he should always be loved by everyone.

"Not feeling well," Remus grunts. "Don't worry if I'm not back tonight. I'm going to the Hospital Wing."

"Alright, feel better," James answers, eyeing him nervously. "Want us to come visit if you're still there tomorrow?"

"No!" The three boys turn to him in surprise. "I mean, no, it's fine, you shouldn't. Bye." He catches sight of three puzzled gazes as he flees out the door.

Remus’s walk to the hospital wing is long and anxious. He’s never transformed anywhere other than the room at home. What if the wolf gets upset? What if it goes really badly? What if he breaks out and hurts someone? He catches sight of the sky out the window streaked in shades of pink and blue. The sun’s almost set; he only has maybe twenty minutes to go. Pain slices through his skull, and he has to hold onto the wall for a moment to keep himself upright.

Madam Pomfrey is waiting outside of the hospital wing when Remus arrives, wearing a look of mixed nerves and pity. His short temper flares. He hates being pitied.

"Hello, Remus," she smiles kindly. "Is it alright that I call you Remus? I feel that Mr. Lupin is a bit too formal for this, and I'm really not all that much older than you anyways..." She trails off. "Sorry, I'm a bit nervous. I know this is going to be painful for you."

Remus shrugs as casually as he can manage, ignoring the pain that comes with the motion. "Always is."

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes wash over his many scars and she looks at him sadly. "We'd better get going."

As they walk, she explains what’s going to happen. She will lead him down the tunnel to the house, and retreat back to the school once he’s safely inside. Then she'll be back as soon as the sun comes up to bring him up to the Hospital Wing and treat any injuries. They reach the tree with ten minutes to spare, but it’s getting more and more difficult for Remus to stay focused on much of anything. As Madam Pomfrey immobilizes the tree and leads the way through the tunnel, he tries to center himself, because he needs to be fully conscious for what he needs to say to her.

The two exit the tunnel into a worn down shack. If Remus hadn't been previously reassured that there’s no way for him to break through the walls, he doesn’t think he would have believed it; the old wood looks like it’s probably molding in some areas. They enter into what appears to be a sitting room, or maybe it used to be. There’s a few shabby armchairs, and Remus can see the dust linings and wood discoloration that suggests that there was once a table, maybe. Madam Pomfrey leads him up a grimy staircase, and he says a silent thank you to the Universe that he isn’t allergic to dust. They reach a landing with a door, and the witch waves her wand in order for it to open. He’ll be in this room, she explains, because the stairs aren’t safe for him. Inside, the room is just as dreary and ruined as the rest of the house. There’s a bed in one corner, rickety-looking with a yellowing mattress and colorful quilt, but that’s it. The rest is just empty, open, cold space. Remus turns to face the nurse behind him, using the last of his strength.

"Thank you," he says, looking straight up into her eyes. "I know you'd probably rather not be doing this."

"Not as much as you, I'd bet," she chuckles. "Of course I'm doing this for you, Remus. You deserve anything anyone can do to help."

Even if he could have replied, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to say to that. The pain is starting to take over now anyway, he’s almost shaking with the last of his resistance. "You need to go." He grits his teeth, pressing his fingernails into his palms. "Now."

Madam Pomfery nods her head, giving him one last pitying look before closing the door behind her, and Remus hears a faint  _ whoosh  _ and  _ click _ as it magically seals. She might have said something about seeing him in the morning, but that part of his brain isn't working too well anymore.

Remus stumbles over to the bed, sinking down onto the hardwood floor and holding onto the frame for support. Using the last of his control, he takes off his clothes and throws them to the other side of the room. He’s learned the hard way that if he keeps them on for the transformation, they have no chance of survival. He gasps as pain rocks through his body. 

It’s starting.

After that, his consciousness fades in and out, and his memories are in fragments.

The muscles in his arms and back are being ripped apart as they expand. His vision goes black and he can feel his face shifting shape. There is pain. There is so much pain and he screams and he cries for it to stop but it doesn't. It doesn't stop and there he is, just a brain in the middle of all of it, just a consciousness floating through the searing sensations as his body reshapes itself. He’s screaming, louder and louder and louder, until it isn't a scream anymore but a howl, and then he isn't himself anymore.

He’s the wolf. 

~~~

Sirius rolls over, blinking at the little alarm clock on James’s shelf. 1:05 am. He groans, turning back to his other side so that he’s staring at the empty bed next to his again.

Remus hasn’t come back to the dormitory.

He’s not sure why this bothers him so much. Really, the boy’s made it excruciatingly clear how he feels about Sirius, particularly with his attitude the last couple of days. Not that Sirius isn't used to being treated like garbage by people he wants to like him, but-

_ Wait, what? _

Sirius shakes his head a little to try and knock himself out of this. It’s late, he tells himself. He’s delirious. Remus can take care of himself. Or Madam Pomfrey can.

Maybe he’ll visit him in the morning. 

_ No, you git, he doesn't want you to. _

Sirius smashes a pillow over his face and tries to sleep.

~~~

When Remus wakes up, he’s curled up into a ball on the cold floor of the house. The first few rays of morning are shining through the windows with the sunrise. He’s shaking, face wet with tears and throat sore from screaming. His body aches, and he can feel blood somewhere. He isn't fully awake enough yet to figure out where. He doesn't know where his clothes are. It’s cold. He’s tired. 

He has fleeting, blurry memories of the night before, which only happens on rare occasions. Howling until his voice is hoarse. Throwing himself at the walls, which explains the pain all along his side. Scratching at himself. Tearing up the mattress from the bed. 

A blanket is wrapped around him, and he looks up into the warm, concerned face of Madam Pomfrey. "There now," she murmurs soothingly, "you're alright." She begins mending some of his more minor injuries with her wand, and some of the pain eases. Then she helps him into his clothes (he’s too weak to feel embarrassed) and asks if he thinks he can walk. Remus nods weakly, and lets her help him up so they can set off back to the castle. 

The rest of the morning is a blur of medicine, treatments, and sleep. Thankfully, it’s a weekend, so he isn't missing any classes. At one point, Madam Pomfery tells him that James is outside, but Remus asks her not to let him in. She goes to tell him and comes back with a small smile and a bar of chocolate, which she sets down next to his bed.

By around 12:00, Madam Pomfrey has declared Remus healed; 'healed' being a relative term. Remus is still sore and exhausted, and has a good five new scars to add to the mix, but his injuries have been treated, and apparently there’s no reason for him to stay in this hospital bed any longer because "his friends are probably worried". Remus almost snorts at that, regretting it when she catches the look in his eye.

"Remus," she begins, sitting herself on the edge of his cot. "I know you're pushing people away because of this. I know you're refusing friendships and relationships because of this. I see you lot during the days, you know. And I can see how miserable it's making you, and the rest of your Housemates, specifically your dormmates." She pauses, looking at him meaningfully. "And I'm not saying that to make you feel guilty, just to tell you that I think they all want to get to know you. But you're pushing them away."

Remus nods, looking anywhere but the witch in front of him. She’s not wrong, about any of it. It is making him miserable. But it’s safer this way.

"I know," he mumbles, staring down at his lap. "I guess I just figured...that if I don't make an effort to talk to them at all, the less I'll have to explain...and the less danger they'll be in."

Madam Pomfrey lets out a breath. "Remus, look at me." He obliges, slowly lifting his head. "You are not a danger. You are not a monster. You're an eleven year old boy who needs to learn to let people in."

These words hit him with immense impact. He almost starts bawling on the spot.

"But I can't-"

"I'm not asking you to tell them. I know that's not something you're comfortable with. I'm just asking you to give them a chance. And to let people be here for you."

He looks into her warm brown eyes, thinking in the back of his mind that they sort of resemble the color of peanut butter. There’s pure determination there that he isn't accustomed to. It’s always pity with other people, which is part of what makes him reluctant to talk about it with anyone. But Madam Pomfrey's face holds only the tiniest trace of that pity he loathes, instead holding a look of fierce commitment and a complete lack of fear. Eyes watering with emotion, he nods slowly.

"Ok."

She smiles and wraps him in the most comforting hug he’s ever received.

~~~

Sirius returns from lunch in a foul mood. He’s running on very little sleep and the promise of a pile of homework later tonight, which even on a good day would make him want to kick something. 

He really does want to kick something.

He throws open the dormitory door to find Remus standing in the doorway from the bathroom, wringing his hands nervously. He looks so worn out, with dark circles under his eyes and a hollow sort of look on his face. Sirius thinks he seems fragile, like something has shattered him and he's only just been precariously put back together. The long white scars seem to stand out even more sharply now against his washed-out complexion.

Remus looks at him nervously. "Can we talk?" Sirius gives a short nod, taking discrete breaths to calm his mood. They sit on their respective beds, facing each other.

"Ok, look, I know I haven't been the...well, the most friendly." Remus is looking anywhere but at Sirius’s face. "And, well, I don't blame you for thinking I'm a rude git. But...I'm sorry, I guess is what I'm trying to say. I'm...not really used to having friends."

This confession comes out almost in a mumble, and Sirius lets out a sigh, something lifting in his chest. "Yeah, me too, to be honest."

The boy looks at him, finally, and for the first time Sirius notices how warm his eyes are. They’re practically gold, almost like honey, and something about them and the way he’s staring, so exposed and nervous, makes Sirius feel safe. "Yeah?"

Sirius shrugs his shoulders. "My...family isn't the best." An understatement if he’s ever heard one, but he has no desire to get into it right now. "I'm not great at...you know." He gestures between them. "Positive relationships."

Remus cracks a small smile. "So can we start over?"

Sirius can feel his mouth start to curl up around the corners as well. "Yeah, we can."


	7. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which names are given.

Remus starts hanging out with the others more after that. He talks and jokes with them, and doesn’t try to push people away quite as much. It’s a relief to Sirius, who can often be said to have little to no boundaries. James is too excited to question anything,  giving Remus a practically strangling hug when he returns to the dormitory to see Remus alive and healthy. After a lot of "Oh Remus, we thought we'd lost you forever!" and Remus pushing James off, but still grinning, he finally relents, sniffling dramatically.

Now, James turns to the three of them with a look on his face as if he were going into battle.

"Right, lads, listen up." Sirius salutes him sharply, earning himself a glare and making Peter giggle. "We've got some mischief making to do, so let’s get brainstorming."

Peter sighs nervously. "Why have we always got to be making trouble? McGonagall already knows it's always us, we're gonna get detention."

James looks at him with the air of an old, wise man addressing a young student. "Ah, Pete, so little you know of true fun," he sighs wistfully. "Detention is temporary. Mischievous glory is forever." Remus and Sirius guffaw in unison. 

"What was it she called us the other day?" Sirius asks through a grin. "A mischievous band o-"

"-Of trouble-stirring marauders," Peter finishes, laughing.

"I love it!" James exclaims. "We can be the Marauders!"

Remus rolls his eyes. "No offense James, but that's kind of the worst, most cringiest thing I've ever heard." Sirius is practically rolling with laughter at this point. Thank Merlin he'd mended things with Remus.

"Well, Mr. Lupin, since you've only just decided to join us, I'm afraid you don't get a say." Sirius looks between them, worried that James might have offended Remus, but they’re both smiling. Well, Remus is trying not to, but he’s failing pretty miserably. "Ok, Marauders! It's brainstorming time!"

They sit in silence for a moment, thinking. Then, Peter pipes up.

"We could charm all of the food in the Great Hall to taste like...mud or something?" 

James throws him a sympathetic look. "Sorry mate, we did something just like that last week."

"Oh, right."

"It was a good idea, though!"

Sirius rolls his eyes, flipping over onto his back on the bed, now positioned so that his head is hanging upside down in the direction of his friends. He doesn't even want to start thinking about all the ways Peter's plan was faulty, but he doesn't have to.

"We could charm the corridor floors into trampolines," Remus suggests. This is met with three equally blank stares of confusion.

"What a rampotrine?" Sirius asks, sitting up so fast he gets a head rush.

Remus sighs good-naturedly, muttering something that sounds a lot like "purebloods." "A  _ trampoline _ , Sirius. It's a muggle thing." They look at him with increased confusion. "My mum's one. I'm a halfblood. It's sort of like...an elevated bouncy floor, I guess. You jump on it."

"You just...jump?"  _ Blimey, muggles are weird. _

"That's not the point, Black."

"That  _ is _ brilliant," James admits, "but I don't think we know enough magic for that yet."

"Good point," Remus sighs again. "Maybe when we're older."

"But how will we remember it?" asks Peter, looking around hopefully, clearly expecting someone to come up with a brilliant idea. Sirius supposes that being around James Potter most of his life has encouraged this sort of thing. Sure enough, James is, once again, bursting with a solution.

"Does anyone have a quill and parchment?" he asks, eyes gleaming in a way Sirius has noticed they do when he has a particularly bright thought (which doesn't happen all that often, and is usually involved with some sort of trouble making). Peter hands him both quickly, and James tears off a small section, proceeding to scribble the trompatine idea onto it. He then grabs some tape out of a drawer and sticks the note onto the wall in between Sirius’s bed and his.

"There," he declares, admiring his messy, boyish handwriting against the once pristine walls of the dormitory. "We can put up notes on this wall when we have ideas, and then we won't forget them."

"Brilliant!" Peter squeaks. Sirius laughs at his enthusiasm, but he agrees. He gets up off the bed and snatches up the quill and ink, rummaging around until he finds a new piece of parchment. On it, Sirius writes the following words in fancy calligraphy:

_ The Marauders Note Wall of Trouble Making and Mischief _

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Peter stares at the parchment in awe as Sirius hangs it up at the top of the wall.

"One of my mother's many lessons," he answers, having no desire to further discuss the subject. "Proper pureblood upbringing and all that crap."

"It's beautiful," Remus says quietly, and Sirius feels his cheeks warm. He’s definitely not accustomed to compliments. 

The four boys spend the remainder of the night after that brainstorming increasingly weirder and unrealistic ideas until they’re out of parchment and properly delirious. Sirius falls asleep with a smile on his face, listening to James scribble down ideas late into the night.

~~~

The corridors and hallways of Hogwarts seem never-ending sometimes to Lily. She’s convinced that they change places sometimes, or else someone’s been playing tricks on her. She sighs, studying the portraits lining the walls of the third floor. Yes, she thinks this is the right way.

She’s on her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, walking alone for once because Marlene has forgotten her books in her dorm and made Mary and Alice go back with her, but Lily doesn't want to be late for class, and someone has to give the teacher their excuse. She clutches the straps of her bag and stares straight ahead, hoping to get to class without another annoying run-in with a certain bespectacled boy. Then, she sees him. Thankfully not the grinning, arrogant boy from her nightmares and actually alone for once, Severus Snape walks a little ways ahead of her, head down and books tight to his chest, robes swishing dramatically behind him as usual. Lily jogs to catch up with him.

"Severus!" She comes up beside her friend, falling into step with him and touching his arm. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

He looks at her in surprise, then glances around before finally giving her a smile. "Hey, Lily. You on your way to Defense?"

"Yep," she replies happily, relieved to finally be back to somewhat of a normal with her friend. Things between them have been weird and strained lately, and in between Potter's pranks and Severus's choice in company, it’s difficult for the two to get any time together away from judging eyes. Although they have classes together, such as the one they’re both currently on their way to, Gryffindors and Slytherins generally don't mix well. "How are you, Sev? We haven't talked since..."

"Since your charming housemates covered me and my friends with boils, yeah." His face turns sour.

"Sev, you know I had nothing to do with that. I would never- I even confronted stupid Potter about it after." He scoffs, as is his way of responding to many of their arguments. "But you weren't completely innocent, Severus. I heard what you said to Black in Potions that day, it was so cruel; you for one should know not to insult people's families-"

Severus turns to her with his face full of frustration, and they both stop walking to look at each other. "Don't talk to me about my family, Evans." Lily backs up a step in surprise at the use of her last name, which Severus has never called her before. "In fact, if you know what's good for you, you won't talk to people like Black and Potter at all."

"What's that supposed to mean? You know I hate them, Sev, but it's not like I can avoid them at all costs, as much as I'd like to. Why are you being so difficult lately, Severus?"

Severus looks over his shoulder to see some other first year Slytherins approaching down the corridor. "It'll be easier for both of us if you stay away from me," he says loudly, face a mask of indifference but eyes begging her to forgive him while her’s prick with tears. He turns away to greet his friends, not once glancing back to where Lily stands rooted on the spot. 

Then one of his friends, a boy she’s pretty sure is called Mulciber, notices her. As they pass, he grins wickedly, and Lily’s heart pounds. "How's it going, mudblood?" the boy hisses, barely even looking at her as they continue down the corridor.

After a moment of confusion and hurt, she spins on her heel and takes the long way to class, trying not to cry.

Lily’s still on edge when she returns to Gryffindor Tower that afternoon. She’s spent the majority of the day going over her conversation with Severus over and over again in her head, trying desperately to figure out what she’d done wrong. Why he’s embarrassed to be seen with her. Alice, Mary, and Marlene have obviously noticed that something is wrong; Lily’s caught them sending each other worried glances every so often. She’s not surprised that they noticed, she’d been distracted and spacey all day when usually she’s the one paying the most attention during lessons. Someone else has obviously noticed, too, and he breaks away from his friends once they enter the Common Room to come over to where Lily sits with the girls.

"Lily, are you ok?" Remus asks, taking a seat next to her on the couch. "Did something happen?"

"What's up, Evans?" James calls in a voice not unlike that of a muggle frat boy. Lily turns to look at where he’s laying on the floor in the middle of the room with Sirius Black, writing something on scraps of parchment.

"Don't talk to me, Potter," she snaps. "You ruined my friendship with Severus."

" _ What?! _ "

Alice places a calming hand on Lily’s arm. "Tell us what happened, Lils."

She repeats the story to them, explaining the strange distance between her and Severus and how he'd pushed her away in front of his friends. When she finishes, everyone looks a mixture of angry and sympathetic. Potter is rolling his eyes, him and Black making their way over to sit closer to the couch, Peter Pettigrew following closely behind.

"It's not you, Evans," he informed her, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "It's...well...it's that you're a muggleborn, to put it plainly." 

Lily stares at him in shock, and feels Mary tense next to her. "But...what's that got to do with anything? I mean, I know there are prejudices, but..." She trails off. It’s only hitting her now just how little she knows about the outside wizarding world. 

Alice rubs her back as she explains. "Lily, there are people- wizards and witches- who believe some crazy things about what they call 'blood purity'. They think that muggles are dirty, lowly creatures, and anyone connected to them, whether by blood or association, are just as bad."

"Oh." She tries to let this sink in, when she remembers something else. "What's a mudblood?"

Everyone except Mary sucks in a breath, and Remus looks at her angrily. "Where did you hear that word?"

"What does it mean, Remus, you're scaring me."

Remus takes a deep breath. "It's an insult. A bad one. It means dirty blood. It means you’re less because of something you can’t change." His nostrils flare, stretching one of the scars etched across his nose. "Where did you hear it?"

"One of Severus's friends said it to me when they passed me in the hallway."

Marlene jumps up angrily, and, surprisingly, so does James. "And Snape didn't do anything? That little-"

"Marlene, Potter, I swear if you do anything I will skin you alive," Lily warns. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?!" James exclaims. "Lily, that's practically one of the worst insults known to Wizard-kind!"

"Potter, I don't care how you solve your own issues, but this is mine, and I'm asking you not to take part in it. I don't think this is Severus. I know him, and he's probably just trying to fit in. There are people who believe crazy things, and those people I want nothing to do with."

Between everyone's skeptical, angry faces, Lily sees Sirius Black turn around, fists clenched, and walk up the stairs to the boy's dorms, away from the common room. 


	8. In Lily's Not-So-Subtle Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius becomes vulnerable for once and James does more dumb things.

"Potter, I don't care how you solve your own issues, but this is mine, and I'm asking you not to take part in it," Lily’s saying. "I don't think this is Severus. I know him, and he's probably just trying to fit in. There are people who believe crazy things, and those people I want nothing to do with."

James is about to make some remark about stupid Snivellus when Sirius turns around from beside him and leaves the room. He exchanges a worried glance with Remus, and they both utter quick apologies to the girls before racing up the stairs after him with Peter in tow.

They find Sirius in the dorm on his bed, head in his hands. James goes over to sit down next to him, putting a calming hand on his shoulder and attempting to channel his inner Euphemia Potter. "You alright, mate?"

"Did we say something to bother you?" Remus questions worriedly, taking a seat on the floor next to the bed. Peter throws off his robes, leaving himself in just his button-down shirt and trousers, before sitting down beside Remus.

Sirius looks up, and in all the few weeks James has known him, he’s never seen Sirius Black look this vulnerable. "My family..." He hesitates and takes a deep breath.

"Don't feel like you have to tell us anything," Remus says quietly from the floor. "We don't want to be nosy, we just want to help."

Sirius lets out a shuddering exhale, looking to each of them before he continues. "My family thinks that way. They're so caught up in all of this blood purity stuff, it's...disgusting. They're...brutal about it." He shudders, curling into himself even more than before. "I guess...I couldn't stand to listen to Evans talk about how she wouldn't associate herself with anyone like that when that's--that's my life. It's what I come from."

James wraps a comforting arm around his friend. "That doesn't mean it applies to you, Sirius. She wasn't talking about you."

"I know. It just..." He sighs. "Hit a little close, I guess. My family...they're really just terrible. And I hate feeling like I'm...being lumped in with them or whatever."

James nods, even though he doesn't really understand, and he knows he can't really understand. It dawns on him just how easy he has it, while here is this boy who’s been suffering while James has been nourished and loved. It makes him feel incredibly guilty, and he hugs Sirius a little tighter in response, as though that can make up for any of it.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," Remus assures him quietly, a hand on Sirius's knee. Sirius looks up at him, and James sees them lock eyes, a million unsaid words passing between their gazes. "You don't need to explain. But whatever we can do, we will." Sirius nods gratefully, resting his head on James’s shoulder. They sit there for a while, the four of them. For once James doesn't feel the need to do a lot of talking; he can feel that this is enough.

~~~

Following Sirius’s confession (which is silently acknowledged by the four of them but never spoken about, out of respect for Sirius), Remus finds himself caught up in an internal battle for a while. He knows there’s more that Sirius isn’t sharing, but he can’t help but think how  _ brave _ he is for admitting what he had to them, and, furthermore, how much of a coward that makes Remus himself. As much as he attempts to separate the two in his mind, because deep down he does know that they aren’t the same thing, he can’t seem to help it. He goes on a few days like this, feeling guilty and weak for being unable to confide in his friends the way Sirius has.

It’s a few days later, on a Monday morning in early October, when James successfully manages to distract them all. He’s made an entirely executive (meaning excluding the entire school and its rules) decision.

He’s going to get on the Quidditch team.

No amount of "James, you're a First Year" or "James, it's literally against the rules" or "James, do you even have a broom" can dull his determination, and he replies with "I don't care, I'm good enough. They'll see." or some variation of that, usually along with some boastful proclamation about his "world renowned skill" until the rest of them give up.

Quidditch tryouts are held that afternoon on the pitch. Sirius and Peter decide to go and support him (Sirius because his only joy in life seems to be watching James fail spectacularly at things, and Peter because anyone with a face can tell that he worships the ground James walks on), but Remus has an essay to finish, so he bids them goodbye and good luck (not that he means it) and remains in the Common Room. 

As it happens, Lily Evans is there as well, studying, and Remus catches James sending her a wink before he marches (no exaggeration, he  _ marches _ ) out of the portrait hole. Remus looks at her quizzically, but Lily just rolls her eyes and turns back to her book, mumbling about immaturity.

"Did James just wink at you?"

Lily sighs. "Yes, I think he did."

"I didn't know people actually did that. It's kind of pathetic." She lets out a breath of agreement, the corners of her pink lips turning up. "But then again, it's James, and most things he does are pathetic." 

Lily laughs, a light tinkling sound, and picks her head up to actually look at him. "They are," she agrees. "You know, not to be rude, but I expected you to be in the same boat, since you lot are all friends."

Remus is not sure if this is a compliment or an insult. "What do you mean?"

"You know. Immature, obnoxious, think you can do whatever you want with no consequences." She shrugs.

Remus claps a hand over his heart dramatically. "Why, Ms. Evans. How dare you make such an assumption!" 

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t  _ start _ now that I said something.”

He smiles sheepishly back at her."Yeah, that sounds like James alright. Sirius too, if I'm honest."

"You're not like that, though," Lily notes, studying Remus in a way that makes him want to squirm. "You're really not that bad. Why do you hang out with them?"

He thinks about it for a moment. He’s about to insist that it’s just a matter of proximity, and that he'd surely be miserable if he hadn't at least made some effort with the boys in his dorm. But then he remembers James's comforting arm around Sirius the other night, and the way that he just sat there, for once not saying anything, because it was what his friend had needed. Remus thinks about Sirius, and the way he'd described his family with such pain in his voice and expression, but how he’s willing to put that all away in order to be here, in Gryffindor, with them. 

"James is definitely quite a..." He pauses, searching for the correct word.

"Immature arrogant toerag?"

Remus snorts out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, that. But he's also an incredibly good, sweet person. They all are." Lily looks at him skeptically. "He just doesn't know how to show it."

"And where is he right now, while you're stuck psychoanalyzing him for me?"

He doesn't even bother questioning how eleven year old Lily Evans knows how to use the word  _ psychoanalyzing _ . She’s Lily Evans. "Quidditch tryouts." She opens her mouth, and he cuts her off. "Yeah, we know."

Lily scoffs, and was about to make some predictably witty insulting comment when he hears voices coming from outside the portrait hole. It sounds like yelling, and it sounds familiar. With one look at each other, he and Lily hurry over.

"--just want to see her, let me in!"

"No!"

They open the entrance to the Common Room to find Severus Snape in a heated argument with the Fat Lady. He looks up when he sees the two Gryffindors, even though Remus doubts that Snape even really sees him at all.

"Lily--" 

"Hey, what're you doin' here, Snivellus?" comes a call from down the corridor, and the three turn to see James, Sirius, and Peter making their way toward the portrait. Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how the two of them walk with such  _ swagger _ , even at the age of eleven. But that isn't relevant right now. 

Ignoring the Fat Lady's exclamation of "Now,  _ really _ !" both Snape's and Lily's faces turn stony at the sight of the boys.

"This thing bothering you, Evans?" James drawls as they approach. "Want me to hex it for you?"

Lily turns to him with a look that could make anyone else quiver with fear (exhibit A, Peter Pettigrew in this moment), but it seems to bounce right off James' confident, oblivious exterior. "This  _ it _ is my friend, Potter, for the last time," she snaps. "And I don't need you to do anything for me, ever, you immature arrogant  _ toerag _ !" She steps out of the portrait hole where she was still standing, grabbing Snape by the arm. Lily takes one last look back, looking straight at Remus. "You're wrong, Remus, and I don't know why you tolerate it." Turning back around so that her auburn braid whips behind her, she stalks away.

The three boys turn to him. Peter looks petrified, Sirius is grinning, and James doesn't seem to care. "Toerag?" James questions. Remus just shrugs, leading them inside. 

"So how did tryouts go?" he asks, grabbing his homework off the common room table and following them to the dorm.

Sirius bursts into laughter that sounds like it's been held in forever. "It was brilliant," he declares, leading the way up the stairs, walking backwards to face the other three. "McGonagall caught him before he could even get in line--saw the broom in his hand and gave him immediate detention and sent us back up." 

Remus laughs, turning to James to make sure he isn't too upset about this (even though, really, what did he expect?). He just shrugs, grinning. "Next year," he vows confidently, opening the dormitory door. 

"What were you doing with Evans, anyway, Remus?" asks Sirius, flopping on his bed and loosening his tie.

"What d'you mean?"

"You were out there together."

Remus scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion. "We were studying at the same table and heard Snape yelling at the Fat Lady, so we came outside." 

"Ooohh,  _ studying _ ," Sirius waggles his eyebrows. "What'd you guys talk about?"

"How James is annoying," Remus deadpans, and Sirius cackles with laughter. 

"No, really," James insists, looking up from where he’s digging through his trunk.

"Yes, really. What's it to you, anyways?"

"Nothing."

Sirius, Peter and Remus exchange glances, the twinkle in Sirius's eye and the anxiety in Peter's telling Remus that there is definitely something to it.

"So you have detention now?" Remus asks, changing the subject and sitting on his bed.

"Yeah, eight o'clock tomorrow night with Pomfrey, cleaning out hospital stuff or something." Remus sends a silent thank you to the universe that it isn’t one of his transformation days.

Sirius snorts. "Have fun with that one, mate."

"You should come with me, Remus," James jokes. "Pomfrey already knows you, you could talk me out of it."

Anxiety surges. "Kn-nows me? How?"

"The other week? When you stayed overnight? Your stomach thing?" Right. His excuse. He can breathe again.

"Sure it wasn't a brain thing, Lupin?" Sirius teases, throwing some balled up shirt at him that had been on his bed. "Looking a little lost over there."

Remus tosses the shirt back at his head, but of course he catches it, smirking. "You're one to talk. And no, James. I'm not giving up a perfectly good evening to go argue for your sorry arse." 

"Rude."

The rest of the afternoon is spent teasing and plotting ways to get James out of (and undeniably back into) detention. By the time the boys go down to dinner, Remus still hasn't finished his homework, but there have been some additions to the note wall.

_ Remus Lupin + Lily Evans 4eva -Sirius _

Sod off, Black. No way. - Remus

_ James Potter will someday confess his love to Poppy Pomfrey and they will get married and live happily ever after the end -Remus _

_ she's literally so much older than me -James _

_ thats discusting -Peter _

_ Ok now this one I can get behind. I call flower girl. -Sirius _


	9. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we whiz through October of 1971.

October 1971 is a whirlwind of classwork and practical jokes, of stress and laughter and teasing and comfort. Remus has never felt more out of his element, but in some ways he’s never felt more  _ in _ his element, too. His classes aren’t easy, but they’re bearable, and he takes to studying in the Library with Lily Evans a couple of days a week. The librarian, Madam Pince, is an intensely strict woman who reminds Remus of a vulture, with her long nose and pointed chin and the way she squawks at the students when they break one of her incredibly specific rules. Lily happens to be very skilled at Potions, which is quite the relief for Remus, seeing as that’s beginning to be his worst subject.

Other students, such as James and Sirius, hold their classwork to a much lower standard, often neglecting their homework until the class before it’s due. It’s unfair, Remus complains to himself often, how easy everything seems to come to those two boys, without them even paying much attention to their lessons. Remus doesn’t think he’s seen or will ever again see James as excited for a class as he is on the day of their first flying lesson with Madam Hooch. Remus, who finds he is terrible at flying (and somewhat afraid of heights), thinks that the class might be even lower on his list than Potions.

James begrudgingly serves his detention with Madam Pomfrey, who swears to Remus that she will not give any information on his “mysterious sickness” to James or anyone else. It’s a good thing, too, because that’s far from James’s last detention.

“ _ Wingardium Leviosa! _ ” Peter enunciates half-heartedly, waving his wand for the fifth time, sighing when the feather on his desk doesn’t so much as twitch. 

The First Years are in Charms, a class most enjoy (except Peter, who doesn’t seem to be catching on well to the work a lot of the time, which results in Remus becoming a tutor in his free time). Professor Flitwick, short and squeaky as he is (James often jokingly compares him to Peter, who laughs it off but seems mildly offended), is a pretty good teacher by Remus’s standards, and Remus enjoys the practical work of the class. Today, the Professor hands out feathers and asks the students to levitate them.

Soon, the room is filled with calls of “ _ Wingardium Leviosa! _ ” and Remus has to fight to stay focused. Of course Lily Evans gets her feather to levitate on the second go, earning ten points for Gryffindor and an annoyed look from James, who seems to be waging an internal war over whether to be happy about the points or mad that he wasn’t first. Either way, he and Sirius probably could have done it within a few tries, but they're having too much fun trying to discreetly levitate other objects around the room (to little success). Remus manages to levitate his feather after five or so tries, and is now helping Peter in his somewhat weak attempts to make his own feather float.

Remus is demonstrating the swish-and-flick motion for the third time when a high-pitched yelp sounds through the room. He whips around to see James and Sirius in a fit of laughter and Marlene McKinnon, still in her chair and holding on for dear life, suspended above everyone’s heads.

"I SWEAR TO MERLIN I WILL GET YOU BOTH FOR THIS!" she cries amid gasps of laughter and surprise. "LET ME DOWN!"

"Right you are, McKinnon."

As Professor Flitwick lets out alarmed yelps, James flicks his wand, muttering the counterjinx, and Marlene comes slamming back down to the floor, a look of absolute fury across her face.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Black! Detention!"

"But we levitated something!" Sirius protests, and Remus resists the urge to facepalm. Does he want to get in more trouble? "Shouldn't that count?"

"While it was a quite impressive display of magic for first years, it was not the requested assignment! Detention, Mr. Black, and five points from Gryffindor." James opens his mouth. "Would you like it to be more, Mr. Potter?" He closes his mouth, eyes darting to the side.

Remus looks at him, a bit confused. Normally, nothing can come between James Potter and a smart-arsed comment. But when he follows James’s gaze, it leads him to Lily sending James one of the most evil glares Remus has ever seen. He catches Sirius' smirk and knows James is going to have some explaining to do. He smiles to himself. His friends are crazy.

~~~

It’s a beautiful day in mid-October. The cold winter months are on their way, but the fall air is still going strong, and today is a rare sunny day where Sirius can actually leave his jacket in the dormitory. He stares up at the vast periwinkle sky from his spot in the grass on the grounds. James is in detention, and Peter and Remus are studying, so he has the whole afternoon to figure out what to do with himself. As soon as he’d glanced out the window, a smile had spread across his face and he raced outside to lay by the lake and cloud watch.

It’s common knowledge that practically everyone in the Black family is named after astrological phenomenons. Some weird family tradition or something that Sirius has never taken the time to attempt understanding, as usual. He does think that the night sky is beautiful, and he does love stargazing. But there’s something about looking up and seeing things that have the same names as his entire crazy family that sort of kills the mood for him. Because of that, he tends to prefer the daytime sky, and he hasn't felt as at peace in forever as he does right now.

"Black?"

Sirius sits up, blinking in the light, and turns to see Marlene MicKinnon staring cautiously back at him. Her hair is up in a bun and she's ditched her school robes, wearing her button-down untucked from her skirt and rolled up at the sleeves, her tie loose around her neck. It startles him for a moment how similar they look; he’s wearing his uniform the same way, except with pants.

"What're you doing out here?"

"Cloud watching," he answers, daring her to judge him. After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "Want to join me?"

She looks surprised, but sits down a foot away from him and lays down on her back. They lay there for a few minutes together, the two of them, before either speaks, but it isn't awkward. In all honesty, it’s rather peaceful. Sirius ends up being the first to break the silence.

"Oh, by the way, sorry for levitating you."

She turns her head sideways so that they’re looking at each other and grins. "It's ok," she admits. "I'll get you both back when you're least expecting it." The corners of his mouth turn up.

"Is that a challenge, McKinnon?"

"Nah, it's a warning. You'd better watch your back."

He grins. "You know Evans'll skin you alive if you sink to our level."

"All in good time," she shrugs mysteriously, and Sirius chuckles. 

"You're going to hang that over our heads forever, huh?" Marlene merely smiles, looking upwards, and he follows, turning his gaze back towards the sky.

The sky is so big, and it’s sinking in for him just how small he is in comparison. He thinks it’s beautiful.

"Do you ever wish you could fly? Like, go up and just...sit on a cloud or something?"

He can hear the smile in Marlene's voice as she answers. "Yeah. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to sit on the moon."

This girl is just getting more and more scarily similar to him. "Me too. Or just go up into Outer Space in general."

"Muggles can do it," she says. "They've got big contraptions that fly in the sky, and you go inside them and they take you places. Mary told me."

"Like the moon?"

"I don't think so. More like other faraway places on Earth. They can't apparate, you know?"

"Right." The two go silent once again. Sirius is thinking about how cool that is, that muggles have achieved that, especially without magic. Doesn't this prove that they aren't as stupid and useless as his mother claims, if they’ve achieved what wizards haven't? If they can fly?

"That cloud looks like a goose," Marlene announces, interrupting his revelations. He follows her outstretched finger to the cloud in question. It does look like a goose.

"That one looks like Dumbledore's beard." he points, and she laughs. It isn't a particularly girly or sweet laugh, and Sirius can tell already that she’s probably one of those people who snorts when they laugh too hard. But it makes him happy just the same.

~~~

By the time Remus gains back full consciousness, most of his wounds have been healed by Madam Pomfrey’s miraculous remedies. He still winces in his attempt to sit up, but not as much as usual. With a stern look for the medi-witch, he lays back down as the scattered fragments of memories from the night before return to him.

It wasn’t a particularly bad transformation, he doesn’t think. He assumes that this is because he’s honestly happier these days than he’s ever been. He looks down at himself, taking inventory of the damage, and there are slightly less scars than usual. There are still a good amount, but when you have countless scars circling your entire body at the age of eleven, any lack of them after a full moon is a sigh of relief.

"How are you feeling?"

Remus almost shoots out of bed at the sound of the sharp voice near his head (or he would if possible). Instead, he mostly just stops breathing for a moment, turning his head to see Professor McGonagall looking down at him concernedly next to the bed.

"What are you doing here?" he rasps before he can think what he’s saying, voice still sore from screaming and howling. “Er, I mean, hello Professor.” He attempts in his weak state to pull the blankets higher up over himself, embarrassed. 

"Madam Pomfrey allowed me to check in on you," she informs him through her usual hawk-like stare. "All of your teachers will be giving your work to your friends, who are under the impression that you have some variation of food poisoning and will return later today." He nods. He knows it had been a weak excuse, but he’s going to run out of ideas at some point, and then it’s going to get suspicious.

"Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall looks down at him with a softer expression than usual. "I'll let you rest. Feel better, Mr. Lupin." She turns to leave, emerald robes swishing behind her and shoes clicking out the door. 


	10. The International Day of Sirius Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius turns twelve.

Halloween comes and goes, full of decorations and pranks. Sirius has never celebrated Halloween before, and so naturally he’s in awe of the floating pumpkins and extensive feast. He and James spend the day scaring people from behind corners and competing with Peeves the poltergeist to see who can cause the most chaos. The boys end up winning when they place a spell on the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost and the only one in the castle Peeves is afraid of, that makes him float about the school singing ominous Halloween songs until Professor McGonagall undoes the enchantment, the vein in her forehead becoming more and more clear throughout the day.

Sirius smiles at the memory from his upside-down position on his bed. Remus has finally convinced them that they need to do homework, especially since he needs help after missing a day of classes from yet another sickness. The other three are working, but Sirius’s attention has maxed out long ago, and he’s busying himself by ripping the fabric of his bed hangings into little strips, braiding them, and then magically repairing the curtains.

"Hey, when are your birthdays?" he asks suddenly. He doesn’t know how they haven’t covered this yet. Isn’t this basic friend knowledge?

James looks up from his spot on the floor where he’s attempting to transfigure a needle into a matchstick. "March 27th." 

"What about you, Remus?"

"March 10th,” Remus replies, not even taking his eyes off the page in front of him. “When's yours, Pete?" 

"July 20," the sandy haired boy pipes up. "What about you, Sirius?"

"November 3," Sirius answers. "Ha, I'm older than all of you which means I'm superior and smarter."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Remus mutters. 

"November 3?" James exclaims incredulously. "But...that's tomorrow!"

"It is?" Sirius checks the date on the calendar the boys have hung on the note wall (it has pictures of cats on motorbikes). So it is. "Huh, how did I not realize that?"

"How could you not have told us?" James cries, transfiguration homework forgotten. He hurries over to Sirius’s bed and starts tugging him out of it. 

"James, bloody hell, what are you doing?"

"Out! You're hereby banished from this room until further notice! Away with you!"

Rolling off the bed and brushing down his disheveled hair, Sirius shoves his friend, laughing. "Alright, alright. I'm going." He grabs his wand and homework (not that he has any intention of doing it) and makes his way down to the Common Room. James slams the door behind him and he chuckles. Godric, the dramatics.

Sirius curls up in his favorite armchair in the Common Room, the one by the window that still gets warmth from the fire, and stares out into the night. How had he not realized his birthday is tomorrow? He supposes it’s because he’s never had the best experiences with birthdays after the age of seven or eight. Once he started becoming older and more smart mouthed, there didn't seem to be much that anyone wanted to celebrate anymore. He remembers one birthday a few years ago when he’d snuck down to the kitchen with Regulus in the middle of the night to try and bake a cake. Reg had been only eight or nine at the time, and was scared out of his mind. They made a pretty big mess, and of course Sirius was blamed for it, but it had been worth it. 

His reminiscing is interrupted by loud pecking against the window, and he opens it to see one of the Black family owls on the other side, the one with the scar on its eye, with a letter in its beak. It drops the paper into Sirius’s hands and takes off. 

The letter isn't red, so he knows it isn't a howler, thank Merlin. He still opens it with shaking hands, although upon reading it, he realizes he hadn't needed to worry. A fond smile creeps onto Sirius’s face as he reads.

_ Dear Sirius, _

_ I'm writing this while Mother thinks I'm reading in my bedroom, so this might be a really short letter. Sorry. I knew she wouldn't like me writing to you, especially now. But of course I had to. _

_ How are you doing, Sirius? Mother ranted and raved for days after she found out about your sorting. I hope she didn't do anything too bad to you, but at least you're safe there.  _

_ I know it's selfish for me to want you to come back home, because I'm sure you're having a much better time than I am, but I miss you. Christmas break can't come fast enough. _

_ Things are the same here. Much quieter without you causing trouble all the time. I miss it a bit, if I'm honest.  _

_ Anyways, happy birthday Sirius. I hope you have a nice day. I don't know if it's a very good idea for you to write me back at all, but I used one of the few owls I can actually identify to make sure I knew it would get to you. _

_ Regulus _

Sirius exhales a mixture of relief and regret. In all his worries about how his family would react to his sorting, he'd somehow forgotten about Regulus, still there and enduring it all. Sirius hopes his brother is ok. He desperately wants to write him back, but doesn't want to release the wrath of Walburga Black on Reg if he doesn't have to. 

But of course, Sirius isn't one to give up easily. He grabs a piece of parchment and a quill and begins to write. 

_ Reg, _

_ Thank you so much for your letter. It was much appreciated and cherished. I'm doing well here, and I can't wait for you to join me next year. _

_ I miss you as well, and I hope you're doing alright. I know that sending this is risky, but I had to give you some sort of responsive contact. _

_ Enclosed will be a little birthday gift from me to you. Enjoy it.  _

_ Love _

_ Sirius _

Sirius digs through his pocket and pulls out two chocolate frogs, dropping them into the envelope before securing it and getting up to make his way to the owlery. 

Up in the owlery, he searches for an owl that resembles the sleek raven color of his family’s owls. Tying the letter to its feet, he repeats his instructions to the bird. 

"Take this to Regulus Black, and only Regulus Black, ok? Don't let anyone else in that house see you." The owl hoots in response. "Thanks." He releases it, watching the owl fly through the night and hoping this isn't something either of them will end up paying for. 

~~~

Peter wakes up bright and early this morning to James shaking him awake excitedly. He sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and glancing around. Sirius is still sound asleep in his bed, the lucky git, and across from him, Remus is waking up as well, yawning and stretching and looking very much half dead. James, of course, looks as awake as ever, standing in front of Peter’s bed. His wand is lit, bathing the room in a soft white glow, and he’s holding an armful of streamers and other decorations.

Where’d you get those?” Peter asks, curiosity clearing the fatigue from his voice.

“House elves,” James whispers. “They were happy to help. Now get up, lads. We’ve got half an hour and a room to decorate.”

Remus groans incomprehensibly, and they spend the next half hour doing just as James instructs. By the time James’s alarm clock hits 6:50, the room is covered in precariously hung streamers and banners that say things like, “ **HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIRIUS”** and **“HAPPY INTERNATIONAL DAY OF SIRIUS BLACK”**. Remus wants to hang one that says **“Welcome to the Life of an Old Person, Your Life Just Gets Shorter From Here”** , but James insists that it’s too morbid. The two argue over it for a good few minutes, until Remus compromises by shrinking it down and hanging it on the note wall instead.

It’s five minutes until the boys are going to wake Sirius up when there’s a knock on the door. James winces at the noise and opens the door of the dormitory to a house elf carrying a large cake. Before the elf can speak, James puts a finger to his lips and gestures at Sirius, still asleep in his bed. Peter doesn’t think this is quite necessary, he’s seen Sirius sleep through more than this, but of course he doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you,” James whispers, taking the cake from the elf’s arms.

"Of course, sir. We house elves wishes Mr. Sirius Black a good birthdays, sir," the elf whispers back, before bowing and scurrying away.

James sets the cake down on Sirius's bedside table, having to push away multiple random belongings to make space. On the cake is written in messy handwriting,  _ Happy Birthdays Sirius Black! _ James checks the clock. 6:59.

"Alright lads, it's time. Here, take these." Without further warning, he shoves massive fake flower necklaces over their heads and around their necks.

"James, you have got to be bloody kidding me," Remus groans. "I'm not wearing this."

"Yes you are, or I'll Permanent Sticking Charm it to you." Remus rolls his eyes. James beckons the two boys over to the bed and counts down in a whisper.

"Three, two one--"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" All three of them pounce on Sirius's bed at once, shaking him awake. He gets up with a confused look on his face, still half asleep.

"Huh?" 

"Happy birthday, mate!" James cries enthusiastically, shoving a flower necklace over Sirius's head. "You're twelve! How does it feel?"

Sirius laughs. "Claustrophobic."

"We got you a cake!" Peter exclaims, and Sirius' face lights up. 

James lights the candles with his wand and they go over to the nightstand so that Sirius can blow them out, since none of them trust each other to carry something bearing fire. They sit on the beds while he crouches in front of the cake, grinning at the sloppy writing.

"Make a wish, mate," says Remus. Sirius looks at him for a moment before turning back to the cake. He smiles, closing his eyes for a moment, and then blows out all of the candles.

~~~

It is, without a doubt, the best birthday Sirius has ever had. James makes all four of them wear the flower necklaces all day, and he leads the entire Gryffindor table in a total of six rounds of “Happy Birthday”, all at random times during various meals. Sirius somehow gets surprised each time, and by the fourth he’s singing along dramatically. The boys go out to the Quidditch pitch after classes are over, and James and Sirius fly on borrowed brooms while Remus and Peter watch from the stands (well, Peter watches, Remus reads). James argues with the teachers when they try to assign homework, insisting that “as tradition goes, homework is against the customs of the International Day of Sirius Black”. None of the professors agree, but Sirius could swear he sees McGonagall smile.

He doesn’t receive anything from his parents, but that’s to be expected. He does get a letter from Andromeda, his favorite cousin, who has already graduated, which contains a muggle record he’s never heard of, but that Lily, Mary, and Remus mildly freak out over. Andromeda’s sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa, who are Seventh and Fifth Years, only send him dirty looks. He doesn’t mind, really. Bellatrix scares him, even if he’d never admit it.

The First Year Gryffindor girls wish Sirius a happy birthday as well, although Lily Evans seems quite reluctant. Alice gives him a hug when she sees him, which catches him by surprise but isn’t as awkward as he expects, probably because it’s Alice and she’s simply sweet that way. Mary greets him friendly, and Marlene sends him a mischievous wink and takes to elbowing him all day whenever they pass each other in the halls. It makes him grin every time.

No one gets him gifts, as it had been such short notice, but Sirius doesn’t mind. The cake in the morning is delicious, and to him it’s the thought that everyone puts into the day that means the most to him. Never before has he had anyone care this deeply for him, and it’s jarring but also wonderful in every possible way. He goes to sleep that night with a smile on his face, still wearing the flower necklace. 

~~~

It’s a few weeks later, and James and Sirius are laughing and breathless and they stumble through the portrait hole.

"Did you see ol' Filch's face when we ran from him?" Sirius chokes out.

"Poor chap couldn't keep up," James wheezes in response.

Holding onto each other for support, the boys stagger into the Common Room and onto one of the couches, narrowly missing an unsuspecting Remus. He suppresses a glare and inhales sharply, scooting over on the couch.

"What did you two do now?"

James bats his eyes at the boy innocently, sitting up on the couch and attempting to slow his heartbeat. "Nothing." Sirius snorts a laugh, and Remus narrows his eyes and turns back to his book.

"What's up with him?" James mouths to Sirius, throwing a concerned look in Remus' direction. Sirius shrugs. 

Remus suddenly noticeably winces and pops his head up, staring out the window at the setting sun. A look of shock and fear spreads over his features as he shoots up. James and Sirius look at him curiously.

"I've...uh--I've got to go," Remus stammers, rushing toward the portrait hole.

"Where are you going, mate?" James calls after him. "Are you ok?"

Remus turns toward them with a pained expression. "My--um--my mother, she's sick...I'm getting, uh, picked up to go see her--bye!" He rushes out of the Common Room.

Sirius turns to James in confusion. "He didn't even take any of his stuff with him!" James shrugs, equally as clueless and concerned.

Remus doesn’t return until the next day, looking exhausted and weary. The boys ask how his mother is and how he is, but after receiving only mumbled half-answers, they drop the subject. As time ambles on, James’s eleven year old mind begins to forget about the situation, although he’ll get the occasional inkling of curiosity every once in a while.

It’s now the end of November, and everyone is discussing Christmas break. The first traces of Winter snow are beginning to fall, and James and the boys are in the Common Room, curled up in front of the fire, when Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Alice come through the portrait hole together.

“Hello, boys,” Marlene addresses them confidently, weaving her way through the couches to sit down across from them with her friends. “What are your break plans?”

"Going home," James answers excitedly. He misses his parents, and he absolutely loves Christmas. "Pete, you and me'll hang out, right?" Peter nods enthusiastically.

"I'm staying a couple of days," Remus says. "My mum's still in the hospital, so I can't go home yet."

"I'm going home too," Sirius adds reluctantly. "Not that I'm very excited about it."

James puts a supportive hand on his friend’s arm. "We'll write every day if you want, mate, and you're always welcome at mine." Remus and Peter nod in agreement.

Sirius attempts a grateful smile. "Thanks, but I don't know how easy it'll be for you to reach me. I'll write to you, though." He turns his attention back to the girls, changing the subject. "What about you lot?"

"Oh, we're all going home too," Mary responds, the others nodding in confirmation. Then she laughs. "Lil, our families'll have to get used to owl post while we're home."

Lily lets out a giggle. "That's true. Tuney'll lose it."

James looks around at his friends and smiles. It seems a chance of fate that they've all been put here together, and he wouldn't change it for the world. The last few months have been some of the best of his life, and he’s fallen into such a routine that the thought of returning home seems strange and foreign. "I'm gonna miss you guys," he admits, running a hand through his ever-messy hair, which of course makes Evans roll her emerald eyes (he tries not to look at her, but it's strangely difficult).

"Don't cry, Potter, it's only a few weeks," Sirius teases, and James shoves him off the couch. 


	11. Christmas Letters 1971

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A select few letters exchanged by the Marauders over Christmas of 1971.

Sent by James Potter, December 19, 1971

_ Sirius, _

_ I hope you're doing ok, and that your family is treating you well. I talked to Mum and Dad and they said that you're welcome here anytime. I know that you said maybe not to write, but your parents have got to let you at least have communication, right? _

_ All's well here. Mum and I are decorating the tree today, and she keeps trying to rope Dad in, but then he almost knocked the tree over so she banished him from the room. Our house elf, Nelly, keeps offering to do things for us, like the cooking and decorating, but Mum is insisting that she wants to do it herself. I think Nelly's having a bit of a crisis over it. _

_ I felt kind of bad leaving Remus at Hogwarts, didn't you? I mean, I know people stay and all, and that it's only a few days, but still. I offered to let him come here until his mum's out, but he refused. Pete's here with me through Christmas, because we live close to each other, but after that his parents are taking him to France or something for the New Year. So you better be able to respond to my letters, Black, or I'm gonna get real lonely. _

_ Also, since I never got you a birthday gift, expect something absolutely spectacular for Christmas. And no, you can't argue your way out of this. I'm getting you a present, you tosser. _

_ Hope you're doing well. Write back soon or I might fall ill with boredom. _

_ James _

Sent by Sirius Black, December 20, 1971

_ James (and Pete, if you're there) _

_ I'm doing alright here. My brother, Regulus, was excited to see me, but he was the only one. That's ok, though, because he was the only one I was excited to see too. _

_ Christmas at your place sounds wonderful, and so much happier than here. Black Family Christmases consist of dusty old decorations hung by our deranged house elf, Kreacher, for the sole purpose of being able to say we hung decorations. I sing Muggle Christmas songs at the top of my voice, Mother gets mad and screams at me. Then we're going to have a stuffy ball full of stuffy Purebloods and a stupid stuffy family Christmas dinner, where I'll probably get in trouble for something and have the entire family tree make fun of me. Does wonders for my self esteem. _

_ Anyways, enough depressing things. I agree that I felt bad about leaving Remus. I told him to write as soon as he got home, so I'm currently anxiously awaiting the arrival of that letter. If it goes on much longer, I might just steal some Floo powder and go to Hogwarts and strangle him for making me attempt patience. _

_ France sounds fun, Pete, you lucky git. Bring me back a baguette and a pretty French girl. And don't worry about me abandoning you, James, because I'm sure it'll be the other way around. I haven't even finished this letter yet and already I'm impatient for your response. And as for the gifts, damn right I'm not going to argue my way out of it. You'd better get me something good, Potter. _

_ I'll let you know if Remus writes soon. Don't forget what I asked for, Pettigrew. _

_ Sirius _

Sent by Marlene McKinnon, December 20, 1971

_ Lily _

_ SOS. I hate my brothers. _

_ Oh, and also I miss you tons. _

_ Marlene _

Sent by Remus Lupin, December 21, 1971

_ Sirius _

_ I know you said to write you immediately after I got home, and I'm sorry it took so long. Before you ask, I don't really want to talk about my mother, so even if you ask, I'm going to ignore it and pretend that you didn't. _

_ I'm sure your aggressively competitive streak will be happy to know that you're the first person that I'm writing to. James will probably be mad, but he didn't give the same specific instructions that you did, so it's only fair. I'll write to him and Peter after this. _

_ I hope your break isn't going too bad, and that your family is treating you ok. I know there's not much I can do, but I'm here all the same. It's going to be a quiet Christmas here I think, so write often, ok? _

_ I miss you and James and Peter a lot. I forgot how quiet and uneventful it is to be home. Lily sent me home with a list of muggle books to read, so I'll be working my way through them for the next few weeks. And I know you're going to judge me for that, but I really am finding that I just don't care anymore. _

_ I guess that's all. I hope this letter didn't get you into any trouble. _

_ Remus _

Sent by Sirius Black, December 24, 1971

_ REMUS!!!! _

_ FINALLY. WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG??? _

_ I miss you lot so much I'm almost forgetting how annoying you all are. It's only been a few days and I'm so ready to be back at Hogwarts. Did you hear Peter's going to France for New Years? Lucky git, he keeps saying his parents are dragging him, as if it's a disaster for them to want to take him on vacation. I told him to bring me back a baguette and a pretty French girl. We can share the baguette if you want. _

_ You know me so well, Remus. I won't lie and say I didn't jump with joy when I read that I was the first to be written to by the one and only Remus Lupin. It's quite an honor. And don't worry, I'm not asking about your Mum. Even though I want to. But I'm not. This is me not asking.  _

_ So far, everything's going pretty much as usual here. I'm starting to try and keep numbers of things to keep myself entertained. Here's what I have so far: _

_ \- Number of Slytherin girls my parents have casually brought up in the context of marriage (MARRIAGE!): 3 _

_ \- Number of Muggle Christmas songs I know: 4 _

_ \- Number of times I have to sing said songs before being threatened by my lovely Mother: 3 1/2  _

_ \- Number of times I've contemplated running away to James's house (and picking you up on the way, obviously): 36 _

_ \- Number of Muggle posters I've put on my wall with permanent sticking charms: 6 _

_ \- Number of things I've thrown out of my bedroom window: 3 _

_ \- Number of questionable things our stupid house elf has called me: too many to count _

_ As you can see, I'm having much more fun than you probably are with your books. Again, this is me not making a comment. :) _

_ Anyways, it's Christmas Eve today! Not that that's very traditionally celebrated here (unless you count the stupid ball I'm going to be forced to attend tonight), but you deserve a little something (and so do I, so you'd better have gotten me something). Enclosed is your gift. I hope you like it.  _

_ Deterioratingly Yours, _

_ Sirius _

_ P.S.  _

_ I was kidding about having to get me a gift. Don't feel pressured. _

_ Mostly. _

Sent by James Potter, December 26, 1971

_ Remus, _

_ Happy Christmas! Thank you so much for the Quidditch poster. I'm going to be teeth-gratingly honest and tell you that it's kind of the team I hate, but it's the thought that counts. Don't worry about it. My Dad thought it was hilarious, and now he wants to meet you, so all the more pressure on your extended invitation to visit. He thinks it was a joke, and I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.  _

_ Speaking of, I'm now all alone since Peter has abandoned me to France, so if you'd fancy a visit to my humble abode, it would be wonderful. (Read as: please visit me I'm dying of loneliness.) _

_ I hope you had a nice Christmas, and that your mum's doing alright. I know you don't want to talk about it, but my Mum says to give her our love anyway. We had a nice Christmas here with the Pettigrews. Mum made enough cookies to feed a hungry country, so I'm sending some along for you. _

_ Sirius mentioned that you've been in touch with Evans. Tell her happy Christmas from me if you write to her soon. _

_ Can't wait to see you. _

_ James _

Sent by Peter Pettigrew, December 30, 1971

_ James, _

_ France has been fun so far, but I miss you and Sirius and Remus. My mum has decided that we need to have more family time, and that the lack of it is what's been "fracturing our relationship as a family". Basically, that means I never have any time to myself. I'm using my cherished alone time to write to you and the other two, so I expect acts of gratitude. (Kidding, you don't have to do that.) _

_ Unfortunately, I have been unable so far to capture a pretty French girl for Sirius, but I think that's ok because I doubt she'd fit in my suitcase. I'm bringing you each a baguette, though.  _

_ Thank you for the Quidditch book. Beats what my parents got me, but I won't get into the disaster that was our Christmas gift exchange. I really thought Mum would like the hair pins, but she just cried??? And not happy tears???  _

_ Oh, I need to go now, I think we're going to the Eiffel Tower. Miss you. _

_ Peter _

Sent by Remus Lupin, December 30, 1971

_ Lily, _

_ Happy Belated Christmas! Mum and Dad don't want owls swooping in and out every single day, so I had to wait a few days to send your gift. I hope you like it. Also, there's no need to get me anything. This book list has been more than enough. And I now have absolutely everything I could ever need to survive, seeing as all three of my friends got me large amounts of chocolate as Christmas gifts. Am I really that simple of a person? _

_ I hope the owl post isn't confusing your family. I do remember that you live near Snape, so have you two been hanging out? Sorry if that's a sore subject, I remember how horribly he treated you. _

_ Speaking of which, if you are hanging out with Snape, I'd advise you not to tell James about it. I don't reckon Snape will be able to endure a higher level of torment from James, even with any effort I put in to stop him. James says happy Christmas by the way. He specifically told me to tell you in his last letter. I will be holding an intervention about it. _

_ Pete's in France, so James is bored off his arse, and Sirius's letters consist almost entirely of complaints about their house elf, who apparently does not like Sirius very much, although I think the feeling is more than mutual. You're my only hope, Lily Evans. Save me from the insanity that is the Marauders. _

_ Anyways, I'm sure you have much better things to do than listen to me complain, so I'll end this letter here. Got to get back to the book list (have I told you how much I love it?). _

_ Remus _

Sent by (a slightly tipsy) Sirius Black, December 31, 1971

_ Reeeeemmmuusssssssssss _

_ My darling boy how are you remus. i miss you remus. remus i had wine I stole it from my mothr kreacher is wayy more sutpid than he looks _

_ It's new years eveeeeee that means its not 1971 anymore remus. remus can you believe it were so old soon ill have a beard like dumbledor and you'll be in a walker and james will be dead.  _

_ that was depressing i apologize pleas accept my sincere apology remus. _

_ happy new year remussssss  _

_ love your frend sirius  _

Sent by Remus Lupin, January 1, 1972

_ Sirius, _

_ Should I be worried? Hope you're not too hungover to see us all tomorrow you bloody idiot. _

_ Remus(sssssss) _


	12. An Intervention For James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone reunites and James has a secret.

Lily breaks free of her mother’s arms to look at her older sister. A week and a half back together has far from mended their relationship, but being the children that they are, the months apart have had more of an impact for the time being. At 13, Petunia Evans stands a few inches taller than Lily, with dirt-brown hair in place of Lily’s auburn. She’s a bit of a lanky girl, and the older she gets, the less Lily sees her smile. Still, Petunia seems impossibly older and wiser, and no matter what she does, Lily can’t help but to love and adore her despite their differences. She wraps her arms around the older girl’s shoulders, ignoring their obvious height difference.

"Bye, Tuney," Lily murmurs into her shoulder. "I'll see you at Summer break." 

Tentatively, Petunia returns the hug with stiff arms, and lets go rather quickly. The girls separate, and Petunia looks at Lily with an expression of mixed sadness and nerves. Lily grabs her trunk as she exchanges her last goodbyes with her family. She waves at their retreating forms and makes her way to the train alone.

Severus hasn't come to the platform with her. The two hung out constantly over the break, and it was like before, without stupid prejudices or his cruel new friends. But of course he tells her that he can't sit with her on the train anymore, that his friends won't like him engaging with a Gryffindor. Lily heaves a sigh, but is interrupted from her sad thoughts by a squeal off to her right.

"Lily!"

Lily hardly has time to react before a flash of dirty blond comes catapulting at her, engulfing her in a hug. She spits out hair and laughs, squeezing Marlene MicKinnon back as hard as she can. Grinning, the girls untangle themselves. 

"Marlene! I missed you!"

Marlene is grinning at her, and Lily takes in her friend, eyes hungry for the girl she hasn't seen in what feels like forever. Her hair is up in its usual messy ponytail, but there are a few tiny braids woven throughout, and she’s wearing overalls over a white t-shirt. 

"Not as much as I missed you, Lil. My brothers were a nightmare." She swings an arm around Lily’s shoulders. "Mary and I have already got a compartment, I came out here to look for you and Alice." Marlene leads the way onto the train and down the corridors until they come to their compartment. Lily’s about to open the door when a call sounds from down the walkway.

"Oi, Evans! Nice Christmas?" the loud voice of James Potter cuts a slice into her newfound excitement. She turns to see him hanging out of a compartment a few doors down, grinning that lazy smile he always seems to have, his glasses practically falling off his nose and his jet-black hair disheveled as ever. Sirius Black is leaning against the doorway behind him, arms crossed and smirking.

"Don't bother me, Potter," Lily retorts, turning back around to let her and Marlene into the compartment. Behind her, Marlene flips her hair and winks dramatically at the boys, and Lily rolls her eyes. Inside, Alice and Mary beam up at them, and the four girls dissolve into another round of hugs and greetings. Mary's pale face almost matches the snow that’s beginning to fall outside of the train window, her soft dark brown hair in perfectly positioned curls down her back, and she smooths down her pleated skirt as she sits back down. Alice's blue eyes twinkle as she rises to wrap Lily in an embrace, her chestnut bob freshly cut and styled with a yellow headband that matches her dress. 

Soon Lily’s seated next to Alice, trading around chocolate frogs and talking about their Christmases. Marlene has her feet in Mary's lap, and is telling an incredibly detailed story involving her little brother, a pair of scissors, and practically all of her socks. They’re all laughing, and Lily realizes how much she’s missed this easy, happy feeling.

~~~

_ This was like deja vu _ , is all Remus can think as he walks down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express, bag in hand and anxieties definitely visible. He arrived on the platform somewhat early, and has decided to find a compartment instead of standing around alone and looking pathetic. Just as he’s about to enter the empty compartment he’s found, someone calls his name. 

"Hey! Remus!" Peter Pettigrew comes rushing up the walkway, tugging his trunk behind him. Remus holds open the door as the smaller boy hauls himself in and takes a seat opposite him. "How was your Christmas?" Peter asks breathlessly. His hair is wild and messy, as though he's just escaped the embrace of a ravenous bear, and his jacket is falling off of one shoulder.

"It was good, Pete, how was yours?" Remus responds kindly. Peter’s the quieter one of their group, and he and Remus haven't gotten very close yet, but they're still friends and Remus wants to make an effort with the boy.

Peter is cut off from answering by the arrival of James Potter and Sirius Black, who Remus should know by now are incapable of doing anything discreetly. James bursts in, an infectious grin taking up half his face, Sirius not far behind. James is about to greet us when something catches his eye outside in the corridor that makes his face light up even more, if that’s possible. Sirius leans back against the doorway, smirking, as James pokes his head around and Peter and Remus watch in amusement. 

"Oi, Evans!" he calls out. "Nice Christmas?" 

"Don't bother me, Potter," comes the voice of Lily Evans from down the walkway. Sirius snorts and Remus laughs, moving over to make room for them. James just shrugs and resumes his greeting.

"Lads!" he exclaims. "How I missed you both!" He flops down onto the seat next to Peter, who perks up considerably as James pulls him into an exaggerated hug. Sirius follows him in, and approaches Remus with a smirk.

"Oh, Remus, how I missed you!" Sirius cries dramatically in an over-the-top impression of James, hugging Remus and fake weeping on his shoulder. Remus shoves him away and Sirius laughs, taking the seat next to him. He leans up against the window and sits his feet in between them. 

"Not too hungover, mate?" Remus questions with a grin. Sirius kicks him.

"We never speak of that again," Sirius grumbles, but he’s smiling as he turns to the two boys opposite them. "Where's my French girl, Pete?" 

Peter looks up with an expression similar to that of a deer in headlights, before he processes the question and grabs his belongings. "Unfortunately, I was unable to capture one," he admits, digging deep into his bag, "but I did get each of you something." He grins excitedly at the other three before pulling out three beautifully wrapped baguettes. 

James booms with laughter while Sirius reaches excitedly for his bread, temporarily speechless and smiling bigger than Remus has probably ever seen him. "Peter, you shouldn't have!" he exclaims, wiping fake tears from his eyes. Remus laughs, taking his own baguette and placing it next to him on the seat to be eaten later.

"So how were all of your Christmases?" Remus asks once everyone has settled down. Sirius looks up from where he’s fully engrossed in his baguette.

"Tewibwle," he answers through a mouthful, and James hits him on the head with his own loaf, telling him to chew with his mouth closed. Sirius takes a huge swallow and pushes his raven hair out of his eyes, which is just getting longer by the day, it seems. "Terrible," he repeats. "But what's new." He shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s something more behind his indifferent expression. Hurt and fear. Remus knows he doesn’t want sympathy, so he changes the subject.

"Sorry again about the poster, James," he apologizes in the direction of the bespectacled boy. James just laughs.

"I already told you it's not a big deal, Remus. I hope you liked your gift, though."

Remus chuckles. "Did you know that all three of you got me chocolate?" James scoffs in disbelief. "Honestly, am I that one-dimensional?" Sirius nods and Remus kicks him. "Thanks anyway, though. now I have a lifetime supply."

From there the boys dissolve into a mess of stories, teasing, and laughter, and Remus is reminded of how much he’s missed this. Them. It’s hard to fathom that just a handful of months ago, he'd been dead set on pushing these boys as far away from him as possible. He still hasn't let them in fully, and he doesn't know if he ever will. But for now he’s having the time of his life at arm's length.

~~~

Sirius is used to James Potter behaving weirdly. Having been mates with him for a good four months now, he’s accustomed to the boy’s strange antics and loud personality. But something’s been different for a while now, and while Sirius suspects he knows what it is, he has yet to catch James red-handed.

Everyone at Hogwarts knows that History of Magic is just about the most boring class in the whole school. The teacher, Professor Binns, isn’t even  _ alive _ for Merlin’s sake. He simply drones on in a monotone, floating there all half-translucent, while everyone attempts to stay awake and Lily Evans takes actual notes.

But the good thing about that class is that it’s a good class in which to have a conversation, which is frowned upon, but not discouraged by anyone but Evans. No one pays much attention to anything going on in the room, so if you speak quietly enough, you can get away with having a lengthy talk.

The Marauders walk into the room a few minutes early to find that Professor Binns hasn't yet arrived, which is as usual; he tends to float in through the wall a moment before class starts each day. The boys take their usual seats together off to the side and get comfortable, Remus pulling out a book and James and Sirius setting up a game of hangman on a spare bit of parchment while Peter watches. James is deep in thought, quill tapping against his nose as he usually does when he’s thinking, trying to come up with a word, when his head turns suddenly toward the door and a small smile spreads across his face.

Sirius follows his gaze to the doorway. Lily Evans has just entered the room, dark red hair swinging in a braid down her back and books tight to her chest. She’s discussing something intently with Mary Macdonald, and her face is alive and sincere. Sirius turns back to James, who’s still following her with his eyes as she takes her seat across the room. 

Sirius snaps his fingers in front of his friend’s face. "Oi, Potter, snap out of it." James blinks over at him, as if he's forgotten anyone else is there. "What's up with you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Remus interjects, looking up from his book. James turns to him, his face morphing into an expression of fear, and Sirius looks between the two of them in confusion. He steals a glance at Peter, and is relieved to see that the small boy looks just as confused as he is. 

"Clearly it's not, since I have no idea what you're talking about," Sirius retorts. 

Remus sighs. "James likes Lily," he reveals in a hushed voice, but James still glances around frantically to make sure no one has heard before shushing Remus. 

Sirius snorts out a laugh. "Seriously?" James turns to him with a smirk, but lets out a yelp instead of the "no you're Sirius" joke when Remus kicks him in the shin. His face flushes red with embarrassment and he shrugs his shoulders, glancing back across the room at Evans before answering.

"I mean...yeah, I guess," he admits, raking a hand through his hair as he does when he’s nervous. 

Sirius grins wickedly. "Aww, this is adorable! Little James Potter has a crush!" Hr leans his head on Remus's shoulder, wrapping his other arm around Peter. "Our little boy is all grown up!" 

"Shut. Up." James hisses, leaning in towards the other three. "If you tell anyone, Black, I swear to Merlin--"

"Chill, Potter, I'm not going to tell," Sirius reassures him. "Although I can't say the same for our mate Lupin here. Gossip  _ monster _ , he is." Remus scoffs and shoves him.

"You'd better not," James mutters, scrawling lines onto their hangman parchment as Professor Binns floats into the room and begins his lecturing.

~~~

It’s Friday evening, about a week since New Years, and the boys have returned from dinner a half hour or so ago. Peter is poured over the potions book on his bed, trying to figure out the properties of a moonstone for his essay. He simply doesn’t understand why school has to be so  _ difficult _ , and why he seems to constantly be the only one struggling. James and Sirius seem to be naturals at pretty much everything, doing well in all of their classes with seemingly very little effort. Remus is the smart one of the group, the one who cares about school the most and is never without a book to read. Peter goes to him with help so often that he’s beginning to feel rather pathetic, and he doesn't want to continue asking unless he’s desperate. He supposes he could go to Lily Evans, who always takes extensive notes and is constantly seen revising her roommates' work or completing extra assignments, but he feels rather awkward around her ever since finding out about James's crush.

As if summoned by the mere thought of him, James shoots up suddenly from where he's been levitating a line of quills through the air. The quills float gracefully to the floor as he tumbles out of his bed and begins digging around underneath it. Remus looks up from his book in confusion, and Sirius rolls over from his position on his stomach on his own bed, where he's been neglecting his homework by smashing his face into his pillows.

"What's wrong with you, mate?" Sirius asks, running a hand through his hair. 

"I forgot about something I wanted to show you lot!" comes James's muffled voice from underneath the bed. He yanks something out of his trunk, falling back onto the floor with an "oof" and holding up what he's been looking for like a trophy. It seems to be a mess of fabric, smooth and silky looking with small details covering it. "My dad gave me this for Christmas," James begins. "Said it's been passed down in our family for generations."

"I've got loads of old junk like that, what's so special about a lump of old fabric?" Sirius asks skeptically.

"This isn't any lump of old fabric, my dear boy," James continues mysteriously, shaking out the fabric to reveal a cloak. "Nor is it any old cloak. Watch and see, boys." With that, he wraps himself in the cloak, and just as he does, his whole body disappears. 

Peter yelps in surprise, and Remus drops his book. Sirius shoots up, going over to where James has just been. He holds a hand out, feeling around the air, until he grabs onto something and pulls, revealing a grinning James's head. "Merlin's beard, is that an Invisibility Cloak?" he asks incredulously and James nods in excitement. "That's amazing!" Sirius exclaims. "Let me try!"

Sirius grabs the cloak, causing James's body to reappear. He wraps it around himself, and somehow it still startles Peter when he vanishes. This is going to take some getting used to. 

"Wicked!" comes Sirius's disembodied voice from the center of the room. "Think of all the things we can get away with now!" Remus and Peter share a look. It seems that oftentimes the only thing the two boys have in common is their shared desire to keep the other two out of trouble. They share a sigh. This is probably going to complicate things.


	13. Secrets and Schemes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus's carefully constructed secret begins to crumble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of pain and injuries
> 
> I laughed so hard writing the end of this chapter. I love them so much.

The remainder of January passes uneventfully for Remus. That is, if you’d consider James and Sirius sneaking out every other night, oftentimes dragging Peter and him along, under the Invisibility Cloak for various reasons uneventful. They're beginning to discover more and more of the school, and it’s far larger and more complicated than Remus ever thought. The boys stumble into passageways and through strange doors constantly, and the moving staircases certainly don't help matters. They’re in the process of coming up with a solution to this problem of getting lost all of the time, but haven't gotten very far yet.

Remus pushes away distractions as he knocks on the door of the Hospital Wing. More thoughts in his head means a more difficult transformation at times, and he’s really not in the mood for that. 

"Come in!" Madam Pomfrey's voice comes from the other side of the door, and he opens it to find the medi-witch cleaning a bed pan with her wand while making the bed beside it. "Oh, Remus, how many times do I have to tell you that knocking isn't necessary?" she asks, giving him her usual warm smile. "This place is open to everyone, but especially you, so no formalities necessary, alright?" He nods. Madam Pomfrey has become somewhat of a grounding presence for him over the last few months, as she’s the only one directly involved with his condition, but Remus still feels shy around her most of the time, feeling that it’s the least he can do to be polite as this is probably a hassle for her to be put through once a month.

They set off out of the Hospital Wing towards the grounds, engaging in their usual small talk that’s often punctuated by surges of pain from him. He tries his best to keep them in check most of the time, not wanting her to worry about or pity him, but sometimes it’s just too much.

"What excuse did you give your friends this month?" Madam Pomfrey questions as they cross the rapidly darkening grounds. 

"Uhh... fever, I think," he replies with a sigh. He’s really running out of excuses, and he can tell that his friends are getting suspicious. It hasn't been too bad yet, but he’s going to have to figure out a long-term solution at some point.

Madam Pomfrey senses the dip in his mood at the question, and looks at him cautiously. "You know, you could always tell them the truth..."

Remus sucks in a deep breath, temper flaring, and shakes his head. She doesn't get it. He can't tell them. He knows that there are people out there who will call for his head if word gets around about what he is, and while he hopes that his friends aren't like that, there’s no way he’s risking it. He’s let them in as far as he’s willing to go.

Thankfully, they’ve reached the Whomping Willow, so Remus is saved from having to explain himself. Madam Pomfrey immobilizes the tree and Remus leads the way down the tunnel, wincing as a headache flares. They’re later than usual, and he rushes into the room as soon as they arrive.

"You gotta go," he chokes out, already pulling off his shirt. She nods with her usual sad smile and retreats out of the door, securing it magically shut behind her. 

Throwing his clothes into the corner, he sits on the cold wooden floor beside the bed, almost overtaken with pain. Something is clawing at his insides at every point in his body, screaming and searching and digging its way out until he begins to join in, screaming right along with it. He thrashes, doing his best to move away from the bed in order to avoid hitting it in his movement. 

The pain sears and skyrockets, and this is the height of it, the part Remus knows well, the last point he can ever fully remember. Where it feels like he is bursting and his skin is being ripped apart and his body is morphing and sprouting into something new and his consciousness is fading and all he knows is pain, so much pain, and he doubts he’ll ever see the light of day again. His throat is raw already as he howls in agony, thinking with the last bit of conscious thought that it’s too much, it’s always too much, and what if this torture just finishes him off, because right now that doesn’t seem half bad if it means that it all stops. With one last surge of hurt, all human thought abandons him.

And he’s the wolf once again. 

~~~

“Potter, for the last time, leave me alone before I hex you," Lily threatens to the grinning boy leaning on the edge of her potions table. He's been absolutely insufferable lately, and she has yet to figure out the reason. She scowls at him, holding eye contact for a moment as she slices the rat tails violently. James just smirks. 

"I'm actually not here to bother you, Evans, especially not with that knife in your hand." He leans further into her space, his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand so they’re at eye level.

"Great, so you can leave now?" Severus interjects from beside Lily, looking at James with a face of pure hatred. James turns to him, expression mirroring her friend's.

"I wasn't talking to you, Snivellus. I was just asking Evans a question." He turns back to Lily, eyeing the knife in her hand and straightening up. "Have you seen Remus today?" he asks worriedly. "We haven't seen him since last night. He told us he had a stomach ache or a fever or something and Pomfrey wouldn't tell us anything, and I know he talks to you sometimes, so..."

Lily softens, only slightly, at the sight of James Potter having a human emotion other than arrogance, at him genuinely caring about his friend. "No, I haven't seen him since dinner last night, but I'll let you know if I do." 

She realizes her mistake a second too late when James's eyes light up at her last words. "Always looking for reasons to talk to me, huh Evans." She holds up the knife slightly and he winks. 

The dungeon door opens, and up snaps James's head. His features relax slightly and he grins. "No need anymore, Evans, but I'm always delighted to be in your presence." He turns and struts over to the door. Him and his strutting. Severus and Lily share an eye roll. 

Approaching slowly and cautiously from the doorway is Remus, looking wholly exhausted and nervous. There’s a bandage around his left hand and his dark circles are beyond what any eleven year old should have. James practically bombards him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and beginning to lead him over to his table. When they pass Lily, she sends Remus a smile, trying to ask if he’s ok without words. He manages one back, although it resembles more of a grimace, and approaches Professor Slughorn with a note.

Next to her, Severus scoffs again. Gathering up the violently sliced rat tails and dumping them into the cauldron between them, she turns to him. "What?"

"I don't understand why you associate yourself with any of them," he huffs. "And I know you hate Potter, but I saw you just now with Lupin. He's just as bad as the rest of them, you know. There's something off about him."

Lily sighs, not in the mood to have yet another argument with her friend right now while they’re already navigating a rather precarious relationship. "I'm not friends with any of them," she says simply, turning back to her Potions textbook. She pretends to read the words, but really she’s glancing across the room to try and catch Remus's eye. He looks so worn-down, like he might collapse at any moment. But he never looks at her.

~~~

Sirius looks up from his potion as the door opens, and there’s Remus, standing apprehensively in the doorway. Even from far away Sirius can sense the other boy’s exhaustion, the same look he saw on him months before, where he resembled a shattered vase that had been poorly repaired.

James abandons Evans, a real shock, and bounds over to Remus, throwing an arm over his shoulders. Remus manages a tentative smile as he walks to the front of the room to hand a note to Slughorn, and James returns to the table. He sits next to Peter, shrugging his shoulders in response to the other boys’ silent questions.

Remus makes his way to the table, dropping into the chair wearrily. Sirius notices for the first time the bandage around the boy’s left hand. “What happened, Remus?” he asks cautiously. “Are you alright?”

Remus just shakes his head. “Don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, removing his Potions book from his bag and facing the cauldron.

The Marauders take it easy on Remus for the rest of the day. Even James, who can almost always be counted on to do or say something entirely unhelpful and ridiculous in any situation, seems to be making an effort to be gentle and accommodating to Remus’s state. It’s proving to be rather difficult, however, seeing as Remus is in a terrible mood all day and nothing the other three do can get him out of it.

By the time they return to the dormitory from dinner, Sirius has had enough. James is sending him warning glances each time Remus  _ hmph _ s at them or rolls his eyes, but Sirius figures that James, as his best mate going on five months, should be aware that he isn’t easily restrained. So when Remus just throws a side-eye when James kindly asks if he’s feeling any better, Sirius snaps.

Not really his proudest moment, but what can you do.

"Merlin's beard, Remus, what is up with you?" he bursts out. "You've been nothing but cruel to us all day and I'm bloody sick of it." 

Sirius can practically hear James facepalming in his head with the disappointed look he sends from his bed. Peter surreptitiously takes a few steps back into the bathroom in fright. 

Remus turns around from where he's been digging in his desk drawer, expression unreadable. "You're sick of it?" he asks, voice an exhausted growl. "I'm sick of you lot treating me like I'm broken." 

"Well, I'm sorry if we bloody care about you and want to make sure you're okay!" Sirius yells. "Why won't you just tell us what's going on?"

"I don't want your goddamn pity, Black, so keep it to yourself and leave me alone!" Remus shoots back. Then he grabs his jacket and his book and storms out of the dormitory. 

Sirius stares after him, the room in silence for a minute before it’s broken by slow clapping. He turns to see James applauding sarcastically. "Great job, mate. Nice going. Now he hates us." 

Sirius flops backwards onto his bed. "I didn't mean to make him more mad, I just don't get what's going on," he admits.

"Yeah, me either, and it doesn't seem like Remus is going to tell us." James sighs. "Do you think we should go to a teacher?" 

Sirius sits up. He hasn't thought of that. In his personal experience, adults are usually the cause of problems rather than the solution, but it appears that maybe this isn't always the case. James and Peter seem to be perfectly willing to put all of their trust in grown-ups, which Sirius doubts he’ll ever understand but can go along with for the time being.

"Yeah, maybe McGonagall knows," Peter offers, finally having exited the bathroom doorway to sit on his own bed. 

"Great idea, Pete!" James exclaims, and Peter beams. "Lets go ask her!"

~~~

James knocks on the Professor's door, Sirius and Peter on either side of him. Maybe any other first year wouldn't know where exactly to find their head of house on a Wednesday evening, but having had a multitude of detentions already, James knows his way to her office practically by heart. 

He raises his fist to knock again when the door swings open, and the hawk-like face of Professor McGonagall appears, staring down at the three boys through the glasses perched on her nose. James can almost feel Peter's nerves wafting off of him.

"Yes?"

"We were wondering if we could talk to you about Remus," James announces confidently. "We're worried about him."

"He doesn't look great, and he won't talk to us," adds Sirius. "We were wondering if you knew anything?" 

Somehow, the professor's face seems to soften and harden all at once. "I'm afraid I can't tell you boys that," she answers. "If Mr. Lupin has chosen not to disclose anything, it is not my right to do so either."

The three deflate slightly. "But we're worried about him, and he won't tell us what's wrong," James presses. McGonagall shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, boys," she says, and she even seems to mean it. She gives them one last sympathetic look before closing the door in front of their faces. 

James groans, turning to walk back to Gryffindor tower. "Well, that didn't help."

"Actually," says Sirius, quickening his pace to walk backwards in front of James and Peter so that he can face them, "it sort of was. Now we know that McGonagall knows, so all we have to do is work on getting it out of her." 

James matches his grin. "Minnie better prepare herself."

~~~

Professor Minerva McGonagall has dealt with a lot over the course of her many years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but nothing seems to bother her quite as much as those four First Year boys. They are young, of course, and it’s very clear to her that they each have immense potential. But they seem to only use it for the wrong reasons, and their constant attempts at disrupting the peace in the castle are giving wrinkles to her wrinkles already. 

The professor sighs as she lowered herself into her desk chair. It’s her free period, and although it’s only morning she’s already exhausted. In addition to those three boys knocking on her door every day and throwing her increasingly dramatic compliments whenever she’s in sight, another First Year in her house, Mary Macdonald, had taken it upon herself to try and adopt pixies the night before, insisting that it was "all in the Valentines Day spirit". Professor McGonagall had been up with her half the night, first to lecture her and then to escort her to her detention with Hagrid, where he and Ms. Macdonald had been responsible for riding the school of the pixies and finding a suitable place for them to go. 

The things she would give for a normal, relaxing Valentines Day.

A knock sounds at the door, and Professor McGonagall stands with a suppressed grimace, preparing herself to talk to whoever has taken it upon themselves to disrupt her cherished free period. But when she opens her office door she finds no one there. She glances around, confused and more than a bit annoyed, before she notices the envelope laying on the floor just outside the doorway. Bending over, the witch picks it up and is about to turn to go back into her office when she hears a giggle. She turns, scanning the corridor with narrowed eyes, but finds no one. Assuming it to be Peeves as usual, she turns with the envelope in hand and brings it back to her desk to read.

Inside the envelope is a letter written on a piece of pink construction paper and decorated with drawings of hearts. The letter itself is written in surprisingly impressive calligraphy, and the first line seems to have been crossed out and rewritten multiple times. The professor slides further into her chair and begins to read. 

_ Our Dearest and most Beloved Professor, _

_ Your eyes shone like stars on this February eve. _

_ We know you really love us, even when you compare us to Peeves. _

_ The way you glare at us like a hawk makes us positively swoon.  _

_ Every time we hear you approach our hearts soar over the moon. _

_ So take this token of our love, that's really all we ask. _

_ In hopes that you won't assign more homework, it's really quite the task. _

_ Adoringly Yours, _

_ Your favorite students _

Professor McGonagall tries not to smile. It’s almost endearing, what they’re doing, or it would be if it were someone who doesn't have their track record of mayhem. She knows what they’re trying to do, what information they’re attempting to get out of her, and she only wishes it didn't put her in such a difficult situation. But of course, she thinks as she tucks the letter back into the envelope, it isn't her information to share. She looks at the envelope one last time, suppressing a fond smile, before she tucks it into her desk drawer for safe keeping.


	14. The First in a Long Line of Unfortunate Rejections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Valentine's Day is celebrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I already had fully written, so they're probably going to come less often now.

Peter is huffing and puffing as the boys run down the corridor, away from Professor McGonagall’s office, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak and laughing in that specific manner of children who have been holding the sound in for so long they're reaching the point of hysteria. By the time they reach Gryffindor Tower, James is leaning on Peter and Sirius in order to stay upright as he tugs off the Cloak. "Tentacula!" Sirius gasps out to the Fat Lady, who gives a look of suspicion lined with endearment as she swings open to let them through. Panting and overcome with giggles, they practically fall through the portrait hole.

The Common Room is littered with students; everyone but the third and sixth years has a free period right now. Remus is in an armchair by the fire, curled up and reading as usual, and Peter recognizes Lily Evans, Marlene MicKinnon, Mary Macdonald, and Alice Fortescue on a couch nearby. A couple of older students wave as they pass, but mostly to James; he made quite the name for himself among many of the other Gryffindors after his attempt to get on the Quidditch team back in October. 

Remus looks up from his book at the sound of the boys ambling over to him. "Where've you lot been?" he asks, eyebrow quirked in suspicion. He'd come around from his fight with Sirius the day after it occurred, both of them apologizing (Remus had given the excuse that he 'hadn't been himself', which Peter doesn’t really understand the meaning of but chooses not to question it), but of course they still can't tell him what they’re really up to. All Remus knows is that they are, in Sirius's words, "butterin' up to ol' Minnie", and he has wisely decided not to press the subject.

"Just dropping off a little something special to our favorite professor," Sirius replies, dropping himself onto the floor at Remus's feet. "It is Valentines Day after all." Sirius waggles his eyebrows, and Remus just hums in response, turning back to his book with a mixture of skepticism and amusement. Peter plops down on a nearby armchair while James takes the floor in front of it, leaning against the side. 

"Oi, Evans!" James calls out suddenly. Evans turns her head sharply to look at him over the back of the couch, red hair swinging in its ponytail and green eyes narrowed as Remus groans and Sirius snorts a laugh. 

"What, Potter?"

James just grins at her. "Happy Valentines Day." She rolls her eyes and turns back around, leaving James to stare at the back of her auburn head wistfully.

Sirius laughs. "Tough luck, mate."

James's grin doesn't falter. "It'll happen," he vows with a sigh (which, of course, Sirius imitated dramatically). Peter’s not sure  _ how _ exactly James is planning on making this happen; from Peter’s perspective it seems like a losing battle if he’s ever seen one. But then again, it’s James, and James usually achieves what he attempts.

Later, Peter’s sitting in Transfiguration, doodling squiggly lines on his parchment as they all wait for Professor McGonagall to arrive. Remus is reading as usual (Peter will never understand how he reads so much), and James and Sirius are deep into a conversation that Peter can’t even begin to follow.

They have long since established a sort of order for their little group of four, an unspoken agreement of the roles they’ve chosen to play. James is the Confident One, the one who takes credit and who plans a good amount of their mischief making and who is overall the most friendly of the lot. He’s the golden boy, the one other people (meaning Peter, not that he’d admit it) get jealous of. 

Sirius is the Mischievous One (although, to be fair, they all are), the one with the wicked grin and the rude humor and the loud opinions. Not that any of this is in a negative way, on the contrary he seems to be making quite the effort to distance himself from any Slytherin-resembling qualities. Peter can still see it in him, though.

Remus is the Quieter One, but not in the way Peter is. Peter gets the sense that Remus is still keeping them at an arm's length from him, and the boy doesn't like to talk about himself much. He’s the most focused on schoolwork out of the four, and oftentimes the most level headed. He’s the one to call James and Siriu out if they’re risking getting in trouble, but he also comes up with some of the best ideas. He has a sarcastic, witty sense of humor that’s taken Peter some getting used to. 

Peter often frets over where that leaves him. The Anxious One? The Tag-along? The One Who Knew How To Get Into The Kitchens That One Time? James's Friend? He’s never voiced these insecurities to any of his fellow Marauders, it feels much too pathetic, but still he worries. 

"Oi, Pete, did you finish that Transfiguration essay?" Remus asks, pulling Peter from his thoughts. He nods his head. "Can I have my notes back, then?"

"O-oh, sure." Peter digs around in his bag for the notes, finally pulling them out and handing them back to their owner. "Thanks for letting me use them, by the way."

"No problem," replies Remus absently, looking over Peter’s shoulder and sighing. Peter follows his gaze to James and Sirius, who’ve seen something at the front of the room and are making faces at it.

Upon the Professor's desk sits a gray and white cat, with markings around its eyes that resemble glasses. It’s staring rather harshly around, a look that feels vaguely familiar, although Peter can't quite pinpoint what it is. James and Sirius are taking turns cooing and making weird faces at it, before looking at each other's strange expressions and cackling with laughter. There’s a familiar huff from the corner, and no one has to look to know it’s Lily Evans.

"Really, could you two be any more immature?" Her voice comes shrill and clipped from the opposite side of the room. 

Sirius turns to grin at her, and Peter can practically hear Remus's eye roll. "Lighten up, Evans. Minnie's not even here yet."

No sooner have the words left his mouth that the cat leaps off the desk, morphing its shape in mid air and transforming into our stern Transfiguration Professor. Peter squeaks in surprise, and a collective gasp goes through the room. James's jaw has dropped, and Sirius is staring at her with incredulity that he's attempting to mask with indifference.

"Looking wonderful today, Professor," he greets with a smirk. 

"As always, Mr. Black," the Professor replies sharply, before turning to begin the lesson. Next to Peter, Remus chuckles into his fist.

~~~

It’s quiet in the dormitory for once when Sirius ambles in, rumpled and exhausted with his robes falling off one shoulder and exposing his loosened tie. He kicks off his shoes and mutters hello to the other three, which they halfheartedly return. James cranes his neck to look at the room upside-down from where he’s laying on his back on the bed just in time to see Sirius ignore his own four-poster, choosing instead to dramatically sprawl himself onto his stomach across the middle of the floor with a groan.

"You alright, mate?" James asks with a laugh, getting up to go lay on the floor beside him. Sirius picks his head up wearily.

"I really think Filch hates children," Sirius groans, groggily flipping himself over to stare at the ceiling with James. "And not even in a normal way, I think he has some personal vendetta or something."

"Are you sure it's not just you?" Remus asks, coming out of the bathroom. "Because you really can't blame him."

Sirius looks up at him with half-hearted annoyance. "Wanker." Remus shrugs, suppressing a smirk, and comes to sit on the floor near James’s head. 

"So detention was bad, then?" James muses.

Sirius sighs in over-dramatic agony. "I really thought he was going to follow through with his threats to string me up by my ears in the dungeons. What I did in my past life to deserve this is beyond me--"

"You sure it was your past life? OW!"

James chuckles as Remus rubs his side where Sirius has just kicked him. Peter peers over the edge of his bed at them. 

"Anyone fancy a trip to the kitchens? I'm starving."

Sirius throws an arm over his eyes dramatically. "Oh, I don't think I could make it," he moans. "Remember me when you're all stuffing your faces."

Remus and James guffaw. "I don't think we're up for the kitchens tonight, Pete, but I have some chocolates in my top drawer that you can have if you'd like," James says kindly.

"Chocolate?" Remus perks up. "Let me have some, Pete." 

James laughs. "You and your chocolate, Lupin. Sometimes I think you like it more than us."

"That's because I do."

James is about to shoot back a witty reply when Peter speaks up from beside James’s dresser.

"Erm, James? Why are your chocolates in a Valentine's Day box?"

Sirius gasps and sits up, all performative agony forgotten. "James Potter!" he exclaims. "Did you get something for Valentines and not tell us?"

James mentally kicks himself, feeling his face heat up. "Erm...not exactly..." 

Peter sits down next to them, taking a few chocolates out of the heart shaped box and passing it to Remus. "Do tell," Remus insists.

"Well...I got them for Evans..."

Sirius cackles with laughter. "And what, you chickened out?"

"No, you git. I gave them to her. I put them outside the girl's stairs with her name on them." He rakes a hand through his hair in embarrassment. "And then I found them, untouched except without the note, in front of our dormitory."

Sirius is rolling on the floor, overcome with laughter. "Yikes, Potter," he manages. James shoves him, looking up at Peter and Remus, who are eating the chocolate and laughing.

"She'll come around eventually," James sighs. "I mean, she's got to."

Remus chucks a chocolate wrapper at his head. "Maybe if you stopped being so self-absorbed."

"Blimey, Lupin, you are on a mean streak tonight," Sirius teases, reaching up and grabbing the entire box.

~~~

Lily races through the castle's towering front doors, heartbeat positively pounding. She’s been having such a relaxing Sunday, laying out in the rare early-Spring sun with her dormmates. But of course, it has to be ruined.

Someone grabs her arm, and she spins around to face none other than her Perfect Day Ruiner, James bloody Potter himself. Lily jerks her arm free.

"Evans--"

"No, Potter. How many times do I have to tell you to leave. Me. Alone?" She backs up, putting some distance between the two of them. They’ve made it through the Entrance Hall by now, and are slowly backing into the corridor that leads past the Great Hall. The infuriating boy opens his mouth to speak, running a hand through his ridiculously messy hair, but is interrupted.

"Yeah, leave her alone, Potter," comes a cold voice from behind Lily. She recognizes it immediately, and whips around to face Severus. He’s standing a little ways behind her, robes hanging over his lanky figure and wand drawn.

She sucks in a breath of annoyance. "I don't-"

"Did anyone ask you, Snivellus?" Potter interrupts, drawing his own wand. "Do you just take to eavesdropping and butting into private conversations?" He sneers. "Or is that stalking something you save specially for Evans?"

" _ Flippendo! _ "

_ "Protego!" _

"Stop it!"

Before Lily knows what’s happening, white light bursts from the end of Severus's wand, shooting straight at Potter, who conjures up a shield charm just in time. She pulls out her own wand, about to yell out a disarming spell when the clipped heels and stern voice of Professor McGonagall sound from around the corner. James undoes his shield charm and slinks away in seconds, and Lily turns to stalk off, fully intent on leaving Severus behind. He disagrees, apparently, and follows her down the deserted corridor. 

"Lily!"

She spins around to face him, and he stops short, black hair swinging in front of his face. 

"I don't need you to fight battles for me, Severus," Lily bursts out. "What were you thinking, throwing hexes in plain sight like that?"

"Well, he was bothering you, and--"

"And I'm perfectly capable of handling it myself! You can't keep doing this to me, Sev. You can't ignore me for months on end, using the excuse of House rivalry, and then just decide to come swooping in whenever you feel like it! That's not how friendship works."

Severus stares at her. Never before has she gone off on him like this, and now months of pent-up annoyance and anger are spilling out like an avalanche. She narrows her eyes at him, daring him to contradict her. To her surprise, he ducks his head, nodding.

"You're right," he admits defeatedly. "Sorry." He looks up then, and sees something over Lily’s shoulder. Grimacing apologetically, he stutters out a "I've got to...yeah...see you." before hurrying briskly past her. She turns just in time to catch an eyeful of a group of Slytherin robes as they swish around the corner.

Lily groans, spinning around to walk back up to Gryffindor Tower. She supposes that since she’s left everyone outside, the dormitory will be empty at least for a little while and then maybe she can get some homework done. Anything to distract her from what has just happened, at least.

She’s walking down the first floor corridor that holds the Hospital Wing, taking the shortcut she found after Severus's friend--well, after she took a different way once. Lily is so lost in her thoughts that she almost doesn't notice the familiar figure exiting the Hospital Wing as she approaches. Remus Lupin closes the door behind him with careful caution, eyes darting around nervously. As she comes closer, she can see that his dark circles have become so severe they resemble bruises, and his already slim figure looks even more bony and pale than usual as he rubs his arms through his robes. 

"Remus!" Lily calls, speeding to catch up with him. He spins around sharply, looking like a deer in headlights. Lily falls into step with him, looking into his exhausted face with concern. "Are you alright?"

He nods quickly, attempting to conceal a wince at the effort. "My...erm, my Mum's sick? And I was...visiting her..." He pronounces the end of each sentence like a question, like he’s asking for permission. "Madam Pomfrey was giving me something for...er...exhaustion." Remus turns his head forward, as though not facing Lily will make him less present in the conversation. "Are you heading back up to Gryffindor Tower?"

It’s a deflection, and she knows it. But one look at Remus's worn state tells her that this isn't the time to press. "Yes, I had another quite unwanted run-in with your beloved mate just now, and now I'm seeking shelter wherever he won't be." Even through whatever’s plaguing him, Remus cracks a smile.

"Sounds like James. Want me to kick him for you later?"

"My hero."


	15. Precious Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus turns twelve.

Remus’s bed has never been this comfortable.

He’s probably had this thought just about every morning, only to forget about it once he wakes up and regains consciousness (Remus Lupin is many things, but he is _not_ a morning person). But this particular morning it seems to be all the more persistent. He’s having the strangest dream, too; he’s flying on a motorbike through the night sky, only to be knocked off by a cat (who looks suspiciously similar to Professor McGonagall in cat form) who is riding a unicorn. As he falls from the bike, he can hear Professor McGonagall’s voice lecturing him about air safety, and James complaining about his head--

Remus’s eyes snap open to reveal three heads poking through the gap in his curtains, one on top of the other and grinning almost maniacally at him. He yelps and shoots into a sitting position, disoriented and confused. James pulls back the curtains and suddenly everything is much too bright for this early in the morning. Remus still isn’t fully awake yet, he’s unsure of what’s going on or even what day it is…

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he glances from James to the other two Marauders standing nearby. They’re each wearing one of the flower garlands that had been used for Sirius’s birthday in November, and before Remus’s tired limbs can stop him, Sirius is shoving one over his own head and around his neck. Remus spits out fabric petals, looking at the three of them quizzically and still very much half asleep.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MATE!" James trumpets far too loudly, practically jumping up and down. Remus, finally coming to his senses, manages a grin through a bone-shuddering yawn.

"T-thanks, James," he smiles sleepily, getting up to get ready for the day. The four dress cheerfully (although James does threaten to hex Remus if he tries to take off the flower necklace) and make their way out of the dormitory for breakfast. As they walk, Remus turns to James.

“James, I don’t know what you’re planning, and thank you for all of it,” James waves a dismissive hand at his gratitude, “but if you lead the table in even one round of ‘Happy Birthday’, I swear to Merlin I will consider switching dormitories.”

Sirius snickers. James winks.

Breakfast in the Great Hall is everything Remus wants it to be, thankfully with the absence of any singing. Somehow, James and Peter have convinced the house elves in the kitchens to make chocolate cake, and Remus is ecstatic when he spots it next to his plate. Of course, there’s that little homesick _pang_ in his chest, the way it reminds him of his mother, but he shoves it down. Now is not the time. The cake is beyond delicious, and Remus offers his fellow Marauders some of it as well, insisting that even he couldn’t eat this much cake at once. Peter happily obliges, and so do Sirius and James, eventually. 

The girls arrive, each of them wishing him a happy birthday. Lily gives him a hug and a new book list, which he accepts gratefully. 

Lessons are as usual, which is somewhat of a relief for Remus, who’s entirely unaccustomed to people making a big deal out of his birthday. At home, his Mum bakes a cake (any flavor but chocolate), and sometimes they take a nice walk on a beach somewhere. Remus can see how much it’s paining James not to throw a city-sized party, and he’s incredibly grateful for the boy’s restraint. Until, that is, he overhears Sirius reassuring James that they’ll do something big for his birthday to make up for it, which causes Remus to lay his head dramatically across his History of Magic table in defeat.

They’re let out of classes for the day that afternoon, and then Lily insists he spend some time with her (Remus assures James once again that they're only friends, and that he has no interest in anything else, which is true). She will _not_ spend time with James or Sirius, however, and so Remus releases them and Peter to go do something without him for the afternoon. Lily takes him outside, where they sit beneath a tree for a while and discuss books and lessons and who _ever_ could have blown up that fourth floor toilet last week. Remus returns to Gryffindor Tower with her a few hours later, and they say their goodbyes before she bounds up the girls’ stairs.

The other Marauders are sprawled across the floor of the Common Room, playing what looks like quite an intense game of Exploding Snap. Remus smirks when he sees remnants of the slime tucked into the crevices in Sirius’s face; whoever performed the cleaning spell must not have done a very good job. James spots him and shoots up.

“Remus! We thought you’d never return!” 

Before Remus can reply, three sets of arms are pushing and pulling him up the boys’ staircases. Grumbling about his arm being torn off and internally praying that no one sees the scars scattered across his forearms, Remus tumbles into the room to find two parcels atop his bed.

“You lot really didn’t need to get me anything, honestly, the cake itself was more than enough…” 

“Shut up and open your gifts, Lupin.”

Upon closer inspection, Remus sees that only one of the gifts is from the Marauders, they must’ve gotten him a joint present. He places his belongings on his shelf, seating himself comfortably on the bed and grabbing the one from his friends (he can tell easily which one it is, because there’s no one else who would wrap a gift in paper this colorful or...spiky). He rips it open with care to find three large bags of chocolate and a couple of fancy quills. He beams at the boys, who are sitting on their respective beds and watching him apprehensively.

“More chocolate?” Remus asks with a grin.

“Gotta uphold tradition, mate,” Sirius replies with his signature nonchalant smirk.

“Thank you,” Remus smiles, looking to each boy in gratitude. He really hasn’t ever felt so well-liked or appreciated before, and he could definitely get used to it.

“Don’t mention it, mate,” James insists. The excitement at Remus opening the gift dissolves into something much more mischievous as his mouth turns up. “So, about dinner--”

“Don’t. Even. Think about it.”

It’s not quite curfew yet, although it is nearing, and Remus is making his way cautiously up the dark winding staircase that leads to the Astronomy Tower. He has his birthday gift, the other one, clutched tight to his chest. He supposes he should have asked James for the Cloak, that way he could stay out longer, but he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself. He wants to be alone for this.

The Astronomy Tower is one of the many places in Hogwarts that Remus has yet to visit, as they don’t start Astronomy until Second Year. He opens the door to a large round room bathed in starlight, the moon nothing but a sliver in the sky, with an open roof and a fenced railing guarding a portion of the room across from the entrance where there is no wall, only open air. There are shelves along a portion of the wall, all holding what he assumes to be astronomy-related things, but he ignores these, taking a seat near the railing and crossing his legs, placing the parcel atop his lap.

The parcel itself is in the shape of a wide rectangle, the size of a large book, and there’s his name, _Remus Lupin_ , scrawled in his mother’s cursive across a letter attached to the top. He cracks the seal with care, taking in the familiar handwriting on the parchment, and something in his stomach drops when he sees only his mother’s writing. Although he should have expected.

_My darling Remus,_ it begins.

_Today you are twelve. How I wish we could be there with you, to celebrate this day. It’s only been a few months and your father and I miss you like mad. I simply cannot wait to see you again, and to hear all about your wonderful year. I’m sorry your father hasn’t written much. I know you know how he is, but that doesn’t mean I approve. He misses you, though, I can tell._

_Remus, I thought long and hard about what to give you as your birthday present this year. You are not a little boy anymore, as painful as that may be for me to admit, but then, you haven’t been a little boy for quite some time now. I think often that your youth was partially stolen from you by your condition, which, as a mother, is heartbreaking, and for you, as a child, must be confusing and difficult in a multitude of different ways. For this birthday, Remus, I want to give you some of your childhood back._

_Enjoy being twelve, Remus. You’ll only get older from here._

_Love, Mum_

Remus’s heart is in his throat as he carefully opens the gift. Inside is, as he expected, a book, thick and burgundy with the title _Once Upon a Time_ printed in regal script across the cover. Flipping through it, he finds it’s a book of fairy tales, muggle fairy tales, one after another with watercolor illustrations and gold titles, and only then does Remus realize he’s crying. Tears roll down his cheeks before he can stop them, and he wipes them away before they can fall on the glossy pages.

“Remus?”

Swiping his eyes furiously, Remus looks to the door to find Sirius shrugging off the Invisibility Cloak.

“How did you find me here?”

“One of the ghosts saw you come up. It’s almost curfew,” Sirius says, coming to sit near Remus on the opposite end of the railing. “And while I normally am very supportive of breaking rules, it is your birthday, so I had to come find you.” Sirius’s eyes find the burgundy book in Remus’s lap. “What’ve you got?”

“Birthday present,” Remus mumbles, throat still thick with tears. “From my mum.”

Sirius’s face washes over in comprehension, and Remus remembers all too late that his friends think his Mum is in the hospital, and they’re not allowed to ask about her.

“Er, what is it?”

“A book.”

“I’ve gathered _that_ , you tosspot. What kind of book?”

The casualty of Sirius’s banter calms Remus, and he manages a soft smile. “Muggle fairy tales. I dunno--it’s stupid…”

But Sirius’s face has lit up. “Woah, really? Cool.” Remus must look confused, because he backtracks. “I think Muggle stuff is neat. Never been allowed around it.” He pauses, seemingly debating something with himself. “Will...you read me one?”

“What? Now?” Remus asks, caught by surprise. Sirius nods eagerly. “Er, alright.”

Sirius grins, lying on his back to stare at the night sky above them, and Remus flips to the first story. It’s _Little Red Riding Hood_. He grimaces at the illustration, where the wolf’s beady eyes seem to taunt him, and skips to a different chapter.

“Erm, right, well, this one’s called _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves_ ,” he begins.

“Dwarves?” Sirius repeats incredulously, and Remus nods. “Blimey, _muggles_.”

Remus leans back against the wall. “ _Once upon a time…_ ” he reads.

And he reads, and reads. Sirius seems fascinated, often voicing his opinions on the story and characters, saying things like “Why don’t they just use mag--oh, right”. He seems intrigued by the Evil Queen (“sounds like my mum”), and thinks the dwarves are hilarious. Remus reads late into the night, until his voice hurts and his eyes are drooping. It’s not how he expected to end his twelfth birthday, but really, it’s not so bad.


	16. A Little Off the Rails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius plans a birthday and it all goes wrong.

March progresses strangely slowly. With exams around the corner, Professors are piling on work, resulting in many emergency study sessions in the library for Remus and Lily, often accompanied by Peter, who sits at the table in distress as the other two put in their best efforts to help him. James and Sirius don’t join these study sessions, or as Sirius calls them, “Designated Additional Brain-Rotting Time”, although James did consider it. Not because of the work, of course not. Because of Lily Evans, and his newfound need to be near her at all possible times. Sirius, of course, expels this idea immediately, insisting that if he chooses to go, they cannot be Marauders anymore, because the group will have been “infiltrated by nerds”. James obliges, wholeheartedly agreeing, although what he wouldn’t give to spend more time with Evans, even just in her general vicinity. He can picture her eyes, her red red hair….

There’s a nudge in James’s side now as Sirius elbows him, pulling him back to reality from his daydreams. On instinct, he glances to the front of the room, but the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor isn’t even turned their way. They’re meant to be practicing Disarming Spells, but James, being naturally talented in this class, mastered it long ago. He follows his best mate’s gaze over to the other side of the room, where Snape is standing with his wand raised, facing Evan Rosier, a burly boy with a close-cropped brown bowl cut and a rather wide nose. 

“Watch this,” Sirius whispers. He points his own wand discreetly at Snivellus’s back, and as soon as the boy across the room opens his mouth, Sirius mutters, “ _ Expelliarmus, _ ” and Snape’s wand goes flying out of his hand. Sirius and James look away quickly, stifling their giggles, and Snape spins around, enraged. He eyes the room, glaring at everyone from behind his pointed nose, before taking the shameful walk to retrieve his wand from where it’s flown to the front of the room.

Sirius can barely contain his laughter. “I’ve been doing it every time he starts to say the spell,” he tells James. “He gets angrier and angrier every time, it’s hilarious.” James is positively overcome with giggles at this point.

Sometimes, when he thinks about the way he and Sirius treat Severus Snape, he does feel a bit guilty. It’s one thing, of course, to attack the Slytherins as a whole, but the spotlight and focus they’ve placed on that greasy-haired boy seems wrong sometimes. But then James will overhear the things the boy and his friends say, or he’ll listen (from a distance) to Evans complaining all distraught about him, and James decides it’s worth it. 

James has other things keeping him occupied, even without the Designated Additional Brain-Rotting Time. His birthday is approaching rather rapidly, and to his excitement, he finds that the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match happens to fall on that exact day. As much as James adores Quidditch, he hasn’t been to a match yet; detention and homework and a million different things have gotten in the way. 

(Ok, if he’s being honest, he  _ could _ have gone to the first one back in November. But he’d been sulking and petty in response to not being able to make it onto the team, and had demanded a protest against the match.)

The boys plan to go to the match that afternoon, and assuming Gryffindor wins, will use the party in the Common Room after as a birthday party. In the days leading up to James’s twelfth birthday, everything seems to be lining up perfectly, and James is convinced that it’s going to be the best day ever.

~~~

James Potter’s twelfth birthday is a disaster from the start.

Sure, Sirius doesn’t have much experience with party planning, so maybe his expectations were a  _ little _ high, but for it to go this off the rails?

Not what he was going for. At all.

The day begins with a problem, which maybe is the result of Sirius overlooking details. James wakes up, as usual, a half hour before the rest of them, and is sitting on his bed with a grin when they attempt to get up quietly to decorate the dorm. Damn Potter and his morning person genetics.

The day doesn’t get better from there. Snivellus trips James on his way into breakfast, sending James sprawling into his own birthday cake. A quick cleaning spell fixes James’s robes, but the cake is beyond repair, and even James himself doesn’t want to eat something he’s nearly just sat on. Later that day, Sirius receives not one but  _ two _ detentions, one for “inappropriate distractions” (meaning he was singing Happy Birthday during Transfiguration), and the other for “unprovoked harassment of another student” (he meant to trip Snivellus, not to kick him brutally in the shin. Really). Remus and Peter try their best, but neither of them have the flair for dramatics that James and Sirius possess. Remus seems off today, for reasons Sirius doesn’t understand nor does he have the time to. Peter, the little git,  _ loses James’s gift _ \--”I’m sorry, I really thought I put it here!”--but eventually Remus thinks to summon it using a simple “ _ accio _ ”. And then, in all the bad luck in the world, Gryffindor loses to Slytherin, meaning there’s no party in the Common Room and James is sad, which is unacceptable on a day as important as this. By the time the match is over, Sirius is dragging his feet, sure that this day can not get any worse.

Boy, is he wrong.

At Remus’s mutter of “ _ Oh, Merlin’s beard, _ ” Sirius looks up from where he’s moping down the corridor. They’ve made it to the staircases that take them up to the Seventh floor, where Gryffindor Tower awaits. Running up the stairs frantically is James, and when Sirius looks past him, of course there’s Lily Evans, paused at the top and looking down in annoyance. Sirius groans. On top of everything…

“Evans!” James puffs as he reaches the last step, bending over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. She stares at him, obviously bothered but maybe just wanting to see how this plays out. Or maybe she just finds Desperate James amusing. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Yes, Potter, I’m well aware of what day it is,” she responds curtly, eyeing him in mild disgust. Sirius can’t exactly blame her. James is incredibly sweaty from the match still, with all his jumping and cheering.

James pauses, thrown off guard, and Remus chuckles into his hand next to Sirius, standing with him and Peter at the bottom of the stairs, watching the scene unfold. James runs a hand through his hair and readjusts his confidence. 

“You’re not going to wish me a happy birthday, Evans?”

Evans rolls her eyes. “No,” she answers simply, and makes to walk away.

It all happens so fast. James is reaching out to grab her arm, and both of them forget how close he is to the edge of the stairs. She tries to pull her arm away, and there’s a brief game of tug-of-war before she breaks free, and James sways on his feet. And then he loses his balance, and Lily Evans screams, and James Potter goes toppling head-first down the stairs.

~~~

“Oi, Pete, how is he?”

“Better, I think? Madam Pomfrey says he’s not dead but I’m not sure…”

“Of course he’s not dead, you blithering idiot.”

“...right.”

“...”

“...”

“Why does he look like that?”

“Like what?”

“All...peaky and broken.”

“You would be too if you fell down a flight of stairs.”

“Shut up, I’d be gorgeous all unconscious like that.”

“Doubt it,” James mutters, opening his eyes. The lights of the Hospital Wing practically burn holes in his retinas, and he gropes to the side in search of his glasses. They’re pressed into his hand and he shoves them on his face, blinking up at the faces above him. Peter’s staring at him, clearly in a state of panic, Sirius is grinning, and Remus just looks disappointed. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Sirius asks, shoving his hand in James’s personal space.

“I dunno, they’re too close to me!”

“You alright there, James?” Remus asks, moving to sit on the cot next to the one James is currently sprawled in.

“I’m fine,” he answers, sitting up against the pillows. And then he remembers-”Is Evans ok?”

Sirius smirks at him. “She’s fine, mate. She didn’t go tumbling after you or anything.”

“Oh. Good.”

Before any of them can say anything else, Madam Pomfrey is hurrying over, holding a bottle of some potion in one hand and her wand in the other.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Step back now, boys. Quite the fall you took there, love, but I’ve got you all patched up. I just need you to drink this, alright?” She hands him the bottle and he peers inside, coughing at the horrid smell it emits.

“What is  _ in  _ this?”

Pomfrey purses her lips. “Best if you don’t know. Just swallow it fast and you’ll be good as new.”

James does as she asks, knocking back the drink and grimacing as the liquid burns his throat and his eyes water. “ _ Blegh _ ,” he gags, and Sirius laughs at him. James hands the bottle to the nurse, who looks at him sternly.

“Now, you’d best keep yourself out of trouble, young man,” she lectures. “I don’t want to see you back in here, for injuries or detention.” James nods, surprised at how menacing the seemingly innocent witch can be. “Right, you’re all free to go then. Happy birthday, Mr. Potter.”

He thanks her, throwing back the blankets and feeling miraculously fit and healthy. Pomfrey is halfway through her office door when she calls, “Oh, and see you tomorrow, Remus!” and Remus’s face drains of its color.

“Why’re you seeing her tomorrow?” Sirius asks on their way up to Gryffindor Tower. It’s late now, almost past curfew, but the boys don’t hurry, basking in the freedom of having an excuse.

“Er, she’s escorting me to the muggle hospital,” Remus stutters. “To see my mum.”

“Oh, right,” says Sirius, and he drops the subject. “James, this birthday was crap. Sorry ‘bout that.”

James faces his best mate. In all of their months as friends, he’s almost never seen Sirius look this sincere or apologetic, and he almost wants to milk it, make him squirm a little. But James is a good friend, so he says simply, “don’t be thick. It was awesome.” and Sirius grins.

Because James Potter is a good friend. Possibly the best friend you could have, especially when you’re Sirius Black.


	17. When You Anger a Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus has a difficult transformation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: so this chapter's pretty dark (like as dark as you can get for eleven year olds). Remus has some pretty negative thoughts, and it's also the most explicit transformation description yet (like i cried writing this, why do i do this to myself), so read with caution if that's upsetting. <3

In all the months he’s attended Hogwarts, Remus has never been angry with a grown-up. Sure, he’s  _ disagreed _ with them, or been  _ annoyed _ by them, but he’s never been this  _ angry _ the way he is with Madam Pomfrey right now. Maybe it’s the unexplainable power of a birthday, of the superiority you feel from being one year older. Remus’s temper is always thin on the days surrounding the Full, like he’s a rubber band stretched almost,  _ almost _ to the breaking point, but just not quite there, simply waiting for someone to come along and snap it. Usually, he has more self control than this; Remus likes to think of himself as a kind person, not someone who takes his anger out on people. Better not to inconvenience them, as his father often says.

The wolf is quite lacking in these qualities. 

He tells himself that he’s not really to blame for his actions right now, when he rips his bed curtains that night from tugging them shut too violently. He’s not in his right mind, he reminds himself when he has to physically suppress a growl when the Fourth Years in front of him won’t walk  _ any bleeding faster _ in the corridor on his way to Charms. It’s not his fault, he repeats in his mind as he sits on his bed, watching his friends pack for the Easter Holidays tomorrow, pretending he’s already packed a bag of his own to see his Mum. He’ll deal with the consequences another time, he reassures himself as he stomps into the Hospital Wing that evening in a positively foul mood after waving a solemn goodbye to the Marauders from the end of the Hogwarts grounds, after having to watch them practically  _ skip _ to Hogsmeade station.

Madam Pomfrey doesn’t waste a minute.

“Oh, Remus, I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, a face of true regret staring pleadingly at him. “I promise that’s the only thing I’ve ever said, and there are no excuses. I’ll be more careful from now on, OK?”

Remus nods his head once, sharply. He’s still angry when he stalks away, leading the way to the Whomping Willow, Madam Pomfrey scurrying behind him. His shoes clomp on the stone floors, making far too much noise. But who cares if someone hears him now? He might as well just get it all over with, so he doesn’t have to keep living in panic and hopping from one weak excuse to the next. 

The two reach the shack and Remus stomps through the house, tapping his foot impatiently as he waits for Madam Pomfrey to  _ hurry the bloody hell up _ so she can let him into the room. When she finally does, he barely even looks back at her before she murmurs something about seeing him in the morning and locks the door behind her.

Of course, as he throws his clothes under the bed with far more force than usual, there’s that whisper of reason in the back of his mind, the one that says he’s overreacting, he needs to be more careful, he can’t give in to the wolf like this. But that part is fading, and he finds himself wondering,  _ why not _ ? Why shouldn’t he be free to unleash this pent-up beast that shares the living space in his brain? It’s only fair.

The thoughts circle his mind, becoming louder and louder, more pressing and pleading with every passing moment. The pain is starting, sliding up his back like arrows, intertwining around his limbs until he can’t hold himself up anymore, and all throughout it are those thoughts, screaming at him to give in, to let loose, to just  _ be.  _

_ THIS IS WHO YOU ARE, REMUS. RELEASE IT. _

_ No! _

The pain is different, in a way that Remus’s hurricane of a mind cannot comprehend. And he’s scared. He’s scared of what will happen if he gives in like this.

He doesn’t want to be the wolf.

He screams in agony, and somewhere in the depths of his mind he recognizes the feeling of wet hot tears on his cheeks. And he resists.

~~~

When Poppy Pomfrey wakes up that morning, bright and early with the sunrise, the first thing she feels is regret.

How could she have been so careless? So thoughtless, enough to compromise the trust of this poor boy when it’s only recently been built at all? He has every right to be angry. But when she saw him last night--

It hadn’t been Remus, at least not fully. Yes, he was there, when his body clomped ahead of her, when he looked at her through a haze of anger. But his face, his eyes, they were vacant, cold. Not him. Not the boy she’s grown to care for and adore.

The sun is beginning to peak over the Scotland mountains as Poppy enters the Whomping Willow. The downstairs of the house is as drab and depressing as ever, but as she steps softly up the stairs she can hear faint whimpering, and when she opens the door--

_Oh._ _Oh, Remus._

To say that it’s been a bad one would be a treacherous understatement. Now having cared for the boy for seven months, she’s becoming accustomed to the cuts and scratches, the bruises and discoloration, the absolute exhaustion and defeatedness and fear. But it doesn’t compare to the state of Remus today.

The little boy is curled up in a ball on the floor, weakly shivering. Poppy deducts that he must not have been strong enough to make it to the bed after transforming back, but a look at the bed in question makes it clear that it hadn’t been an option in the first place. The wood of the frame is splintering and broken, missing one of its legs. The mattress and blankets are in shreds, strewn about the floor. She mutters a quick  _ reparo _ , not bothering to watch the damage right itself as she hurries to Remus. 

And oh, has Remus been through it. Even in his ball-like state, she can see that he has more injuries this time than any of the others. There are scratches oozing red on his arms, his legs, his torso, bruises up and down his sides. His face is scrunched in pain and exhaustion, a matted mess of dried blood and tears forming tracks down his cheeks, and she realizes with a pang that he’s managed to scratch his face too. She wraps the mended blanket around the boy to warm him, murmuring healing spells under her breath to stop the bleeding. The boy’s face eases, and when he blinks softly, Poppy can see the world coming into focus in his eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak, wincing at the obvious pain in his throat, and she shushes him softly.

“Shh, don’t try and speak,” she soothes, casting a warming charm over him so she can help him into some amount of clothing. “You had a bad one, but it’s over now.”

Remus looks at her with pleading eyes. “ _ I’m sorry, _ ” he rasps weakly, and Poppy is practically drowning with endearment, a strong adoration for this boy.

“Shh, it’s OK. I know.”

She keeps speaking to him in hushed tones as she works to close up the worst of his wounds. She asks him to let her conjure up a stretcher, promising him that there are barely any students left, all gone home for the week-long break, and the ones who remain are all still asleep. But he refuses, of course, and so they walk slowly up to the castle, Remus tucked inside the blanket and under Poppy Pomfrey’s safe arm.

~~~

Remus stays in the Hospital Wing for much longer than usual that day. There’s no one waiting for him, or expecting him, so he’s in no rush. Of course, there are almost double the wounds to clean, and even once the skin on his hands has been put back together and his cuts have been closed and his bones have been mended, Remus still has the forever-lingering remnants of his scars, eight new ones, to be exact. Madam Pomfrey told him long ago that she can’t get rid of them, since they’re magical wounds, and as Remus regains his first bit of full consciousness that morning (or maybe it’s the afternoon?), his first sinking thought is the reminder of these additions to his appearance in places still unknown to him.

He sits up gingerly, still sore, just as Madam Pomfrey is coming to check on him. He can already tell from her face--it’s bad. 

“Nice to see you finally awake, Remus,” she greets him kindly. “You’re almost free to go, just a few more little fixes.” She bustles around him, untying a bandage here and there and having him drink one last medicine before she announces him good to go. 

“Thank you,” he says, pausing on his way out the door, looking back at her so she knows he means it. Hindsight is hitting him hard now, and he feels awful for the way he treated Madam Pomfrey last night. She smiles, the lines around her eyes crinkling into the most loving expression Remus has received in a long time.

“Always,” she replies.

Remus races up to Gryffindor Tower anxiously, not even bothering to respond to the Fat Lady when she greets him (which earns him a haughty harumph, but he’ll apologize later). He passes a few lingering students in the Common Room, none of them looking up at the unaccompanied First Year rushing by, and he makes it up to the dormitory and hurries into the bathroom, only to stop and shut his eyes, facing away from the mirror and undressing so he’ll be able to see the full damage.

He takes a few deep, hesitant inhales, readying himself for the damage before he opens his eyes, and then he does, and--

Oh.

A lump forms in Remus’s throat at the sight of them. Long, pale, jagged lines, just like the others but these ones are fresh, almost white, and they trace along his body. There’s one going up his right arm, it starts at the tip of his ring finger and runs like an external vein to his elbow, and there are three even slashes over the top of his opposite thigh. There are some on his torso, as well, looking like ghost ribs over his already pale chest. There are teeth marks on the side of his feet, and he looks away quickly before he can see that old, repulsive mark on his hip, the one from That Night. Remus’s eyes travel up his body until…

There. Climbing up his throat from the base of his neck, the scar travels over the side of his cheek and stops right above his right ear, where his hairline starts. And the other one, pale and violent, dragging from his right eyebrow diagonally across his face to stop right above his left nostril. His face usually goes mostly untouched; the wolf respects him enough for that, at least. But not last night. 

Remus forces air into his lungs, which feel like someone’s sitting on him, and he sinks to the floor. Last night was his fault. It terrifies him thinking about how close he came to giving in, to letting the wolf take over. It had fought his resistance, he thinks, attacking itself because that was the closest it could get to attacking him. He didn’t even know that this could happen, and it’s his fault. He just got so tired, so done with holding himself back against the wolf. Remus curls up on the tile floor of the bathroom, leaning against the sink, and he cries. He stays like that for a long time, crying alone, half naked, on the floor of the dormitory bathroom.

The rest of the week passes in a blurr for Remus. With the absence of his friends, he spends his time reading and distracting himself from his own self pity. Letters come from the other Marauders. He ignores them, and they begin to pile up on his dresser, but he has no interest in reading or responding to them. He walks about the castle aimlessly for hours, with the sole purpose of avoiding the other students, who he can feel are staring at his new scars even when he’s not looking at them. He spends nights in the astronomy tower, days in the library. He looks for books on werewolves, and stops when he finds them all in the “Dark and Dangerous Creatures” section. He wanders the grounds, purposefully avoiding the Whomping Willow. He spends hours by the Lake, feeding bits of bread to the Giant Squid. He’s not sad, but he’s not happy either. He has no desire to dredge up the feeling of emotion, because that would mean acceptance. That would mean coming to terms with his newly butchered face.

He’s sitting at the front steps of the castle now, staring at his book but not really taking anything in. The sun is setting over the Black Lake, casting the grounds in an array of colors, and Remus feels mildly at peace for the first time in days. It’s Saturday night, the rest of the school will be returning tomorrow, and Remus is working on getting himself back to some semblance of human life, when someone steps through the castle doors. Remus turns and stands, expecting to see a teacher, but instead he finds Severus Snape, leaning against the huge double doors and positively glaring.

Remus has seen Snape in passing over the week, always averting his gaze and turning his head before the other boy can start anything. The two haven’t ever had any real interactions, Remus doesn’t think, but he knows that Snape hates him by association. Not that Remus has any amount of fondness for Snape, either. 

Remus sighs, staring back at the dark-haired boy wearily for a moment until he remembers all too late.

“What happened to your face?”

“Fell,” Remus mumbles, and Snape guffaws.

“On what, a dragon?”

“Do you have a reason to be talking to me, or are you just extending your stalking to the rest of Gryffindor now, too?”

Snape’s glare intensifies, if that’s even possible. “You’d better watch it, Lupin,” he snarls.

Remus rolls his eyes, all his pent-up anger and frustration from the past week finally being expelled. “Or what? You’ll smear grease on me? You know, I’m pretty good friends with Lily Evans, and I don’t think she’d like you harassing m--”

Remus realizes all too late that Snape’s wand is drawn, or he would’ve had time to react before Snape growls something under his breath that Remus only knows is a tripping jinx when he’s sprawled face-first on the ground, listening to Snape’s footsteps hurrying away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright take a deep breath with me i'm so sorry for that.


	18. Pumpkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a mishap involving pumpkins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had literally the worst writing block I've ever had trying to write this chapter, so i'm sorry if it kind of sucks.

James sits in Potions, trying very hard to block out the three incredibly distracting faces in the room. But oh, how he’s failing.

The first, of course, is Lily Evans, in all her auburn, freckled, green-eyed glory. James knows he has it _bad_ for someone of his age when he finds himself watching her careful hands crush the rose petals, unable to look away. He wonders if that’s normal.

The second Very Distracting Face is Remus Lupin, sitting off to James’s right. He’s not doing anything distracting, per se, nor is he usually a very distracting person at all. But since returning to Hogwarts a week ago, there’s been more to take in about Remus than ever. He hadn’t responded to a single letter over the week-long holiday, telling them when they asked that it had been a stressful week with his mother, and he hadn’t had the time. And of course James is ok with this reasoning, it explains the dark circles under Remus’s eyes and the anger behind each of his expressions. But it doesn’t explain the scars. Remus has always had scars, at least, as long as James has known him. Little pale lines that James catches glimpses of when Remus takes off a sweatshirt, the ones that peek over the hems of his clothes, and of course the one over the bridge of his nose, and the way Remus always wears long sleeves, even to bed. James doesn’t have a whole lot of practice in manners, but he knows it would be rude to ask about them, so he never has. But when they enter the Common Room that first night back and Remus turns to them, he almost blurts out the question, because _Merlin’s bloody eyebrows,_ what dark creature could have caused that? Still he doesn’t ask, and Remus never brings it up, so now James is stuck with the boy and the Very Distracting Mysterious Little White Lines all over his face.

Which brings him to the third Very Distracting Face, this one considerably less pleasant than the others, even with the scars on Remus’s. Severus Snape is staring, no, _smirking_ at them--no, just at Remus, eyeing his scars, and it intensifies every time Remus rubs his side, giving Snape an almost maniacal look about him. Which, in all very strange things, James has to admit that this is at least Second Degree Very Strange. So he finally asks.

“Er, Remus? Why is Snivellus looking at you like that?”

Remus turns, glaring at the gangly boy behind them. “Ran into him last week,” he grumbles, then smirks. “Think I offended him, a bit.”

“But that doesn’t explain the smirking…”

“He used a tripping jinx on me after I threatened to tell Lily he was harassing me.”

“ _What?!_ ” James is just about jumping out of his seat, face contorted with rage.

“Calm down, Potter, it isn’t a big deal.”

“ _Not a big deal?_ ” Sirius repeats, jumping into the conversation. “Lupin, this is exactly what we needed! Reason for revenge!” Sirius is actually rubbing his hands together evilly, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief as he lowers his voice. “I’ve been dying to have a go at Sniv for _ages_ , and now we’ve got a reason!”

Remus scoffs, and Peter glances between them nervously. “Revenge meaning…”

“Nothing awful, Pete, don’t worry,” James assures him, and Peter noticeably relaxes. “Alright lads, I’m calling an Emergency Marauders Meeting in…” he pretends to check a nonexistent watch on his wrist before peeking at the actual clock on the dungeon wall. “Approximately oh-four hundred hours.”

The other three look at him quizzically. “James, do you even know how military time works?” Sirius asks through a breath of laughter. James rolls his eyes.

“Fine, whatever, seven o-clock.”

~~~

Marlene McKinnon had seen a lot of preposterous things in her lifetime. Living with five hundred million brothers (really only three, but it sure feels like more), she’s quite accustomed to the loud and brash tendencies of pubescent (and prepubescent, and post-pubescent) boys. But even so, this might just be the most unheard-of thing in the history of unheard-of things, and she does a double-take when she sees it.

Because there, in the library, are those boys-- _Marauders_ , as they call themselves--hunched over a table and reading. _Reading!_ Marlene doesn’t think she’s ever before seen Potter and Black in a library, much less reading, much less reading _intently_. She smirks through her shock. Lily’ll love this.

No one is quite sure what to make of things the next morning, when as soon as the Slytherins bite into their breakfast-- _pop!_ \--their heads turn into pumpkins. There’s a disapproving sniff from Lily, of course, but Marlene and Mary are laughing, and the four boys down the table are beside themselves with glee. It’s a bit amateur, sure, but when a particularly slimy-looking pumpkin head glares at the table, Marlene has to admit she’s enjoying this. 

That is, until that one lanky pumpkin headed boy comes thundering over to the Gryffindor table, slamming his hands down in front of the Marauders.

“Put. Me. Right,” he growls and his voice sounds partially garbled, presumably from being stuck inside of a pumpkin.

“Why, Snivellus Snape!” Sirius Black exclaims. “I thought I recognized that mug of yours. What can we do for ya?”

This is the first time Marlene’s ever seen a pumpkin get angry, and it would be hilarious if not for the fury-filled redhead sitting beside her. 

“I know it was you four,” Snape growls. “Fix me.”

Potter puts on an almost convincing expression of shock. “Why, Sniv! Why ever would you say such a thing!” Marlene resists the urge to facepalm. Merlin, the dramatics of those two. Black is smirking, leaning back against the bench casually. Potter is grinning, a failing attempt to appear innocent. Remus Lupin has his chin propped up with his hand, watching the scene unfold wearily, and Peter Pettigrew is stirring his porridge frantically, face full of terribly-hidden fright. Lily’s nearly shaking in anger next to Marlene.

“Don’t play dumb, Potter,” Lily finally explodes, and one two three four boy heads (and one pumpkin) turn to look at her. “We all know it was you four,” she continues, voice tight and clipped. “Put him right!”

“Lily-” Snape starts.

“Only for you, Evans,” Potter interrupts, and he sends her a cheeky grin before performing the counterspell. Snape’s head returns to normal, and it’s positively contorted with rage. Potter’s timing couldn’t be worse, though.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew. Please come with me.” Professor McGonagall’s voice cuts through the chaos of the hall, and Marlene looks around at the other Slytherins, still all with fat orange pumpkins above their necks, filing angrily out of the Great Hall towards the Hospital Wing. The four boys look up at the professor sheepishly, caught in the act, and Potter sends Lily a wink as they walk away, and Black mimics him, winking dramatically at Marlene. Marlene groans. These boys really are astonishingly pathetic.

~~~

Peter gets off miraculously easy for the Perfect Pumpkin Prank, as Sirius has so articulately named it. He, Sirius and Remus receive only one day of detention, while James receives two, since he had been caught in the act. After a rather stern talking-to from Professor McGonagall, they’re sent off to class with instructions to go down to Hagrid’s hut after dinner, since he’s apparently in need of help with something. And so that evening, instead of following their fellow Gryffindors up to the Tower, the four boys grab their cloaks and head out onto the grounds. 

The sun is lowering on the horizon, the mid-April air still has a hint of the chill of Winter, and Peter hugs his cloak around his shoulders as they hurry to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid’s hut is possibly too big to be considered a hut, but when the eight foot tall man exits the front door, Peter is reminded that by Hagrid’s standards, this is probably a tight fit. 

“A’righ’ lads?” Hagrid booms in his rough voice, and Peter shrinks a little, but James and Sirius just stare up at the man with huge grins.

“Hiya Hagrid, what are we doing tonight?” Sirius asks, as if he and Hagrid are old friends.

“Are we going in the Forest?” James asks excitedly, and Peter’s breath stops for a moment.

Hagrid’s eyes crinkle as he smiles down at them. “Nah, tonigh’ yer gon’ be helpin’ me harvest some o’ me pumpkins,” he says, smiling in a way that tells them that he fully understands the irony of the task. “Can’ go in there. Too many dark creatures an’ the like.” Hagrid leads them to his pumpkin patch, and Peter’s eyes almost bulge out of his head at the sight. These can not be normal pumpkins; they’re easily the size of a sleeping bear. 

“Er, how’re we supposed to harvest those, Hagrid?” Remus questions cautiously, staring at the patch with concern. “I doubt any of us can lift those.”

“Hey now, are you doubting my strength?” Sirius jokes, holding up his arms to flex them.

Hagrid laughs, a big booming noise. “Yeah, didn’ think o’ that. Righ’, well, in tha’ case, yeh lot can jus’ stay here fer yer hour, fend off them birds an’ wha’not.” He winks a beetle-black eye at them. “Jus’ don’ tell yer professor, alrigh’?”

“As if,” James scoffs, but his grin is taking up his whole face. “Thanks, Hagrid!”

“I’ll be in me hut, where I can see yeh, so no funny business.” They nod--Sirius salutes--and with one last gruff laugh, Hagrid turns and heads into his hut.

“Well, we got off easy,” Sirius comments as the four sit down, leaning against the massive pumpkins. The sky is getting darker now, the first stars beginning to peak out as the sun slowly disappears behind the mountains. Peter glances at the boys around him, who are somehow quiet for once. Sirius is drawing in the dirt with a long stick, his raven-black hair falling into his face. Remus is leaning against a pumpkin beside Peter, watching the sky, a content look over his face, and Peter tries not to notice the faint pale lines of scars on his cheek. James is sitting with his arms on his knees, absentmindedly picking apart a leaf and staring into the depths of the Forest. Peter knows James well enough to tell when he’s working up to saying something, and sure enough--

“What kind of dark creatures d’you think are in there?” he asks, looking into the darkness of the trees with pure curiosity. 

“There’s a herd of centaurs, I heard someone talking about them,” Remus answers softly. It’s strange how the stillness of the night quiets the usually rambunctious four.

“But centaurs aren’t _dangerous_ ,” James counters. “They’re half horse half human, do they really expect us to take them seriously?” 

Sirius chuckles. “Don’t let them hear you say that, mate. They’re actually really bloody smart, can read the stars and planets and whatever, and they get _really_ aggressive if you offend them.”

“How d’you know that?” Peter asks. 

“Yeah, been around a whole lot of centaurs in your life?”

“Shove off. Someone told me.”

“They can read the stars?” Remus asks, still staring at the now-navy blue sky.

“Yeah, they can tell the future from the planets or something,” Sirius answers in a murmur. “I always wondered why Mother never taught us more about them, with the Black family’s obsession with celestial beings and whatnot.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, we’re all named after something to do with stars. I’m Sirius, obviously, my brother’s Regulus, so we’re both stars. My dad’s Orion, and, well, my mum’s not a star, I think she’s an asteroid, but she’s a Black by marriage. All my cousins and other relatives are stars and constellations, too.” The other three boys stare at him. 

“That’s...strange,” says Remus, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, you can’t be judging me!” Sirius accuses. “You’re one too, you know.”

Remus sighs, averting his eyes. “Yeah, Lupus. The wolf,” he mutters. 

“What star is Sirius?” James asks, taking the hint to change the subject. 

“Brightest star in the sky,” Sirius replies cheekily. “Part of the Canis Major constellation.”

“The dog? Cool.” Peter stares at his friend, wishing not for the first time that he himself had something quite as interesting to share. 

“You know,” James muses, “you really are a lot like a dog.”

“Oh yeah?”

James nods and starts ticking things off on his fingers. “Energetic, slobbery”--”excuse _you_ ”--”dependent, shaggy hair”--”my hair is _magnificent_ , thank you very much--”

Soon they’re laughing too hard for James to finish his list, and Peter gazes up at the sky as Sirius and James continue to tease each other. He watches the stars, the waning moon, the soft clouds floating slowly across his line of vision, and he wishes he had a star. That he could look up and see himself, all important and glowing, for everyone to see.


	19. Study Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Remus tries to study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Little Update:  
> Hi!! First of all thank you so much for reading!!! It actually makes me so happy to see people reading my work.  
> Second of all, as much as I'm loving writing this, the amount of commitment and effort it's taking to write like a full on story is becoming stressful for me, and I want this to be something that I can fully enjoy (also this may or may not be because literally nothing interesting happens in april-may of first year and I'm not an experienced enough writer to fill in gaps like that). I also just don't want to be working on this for the next approximately six years of my life. So I'm probably going to finish off first year, but then I think I'm going to start writing more separate shorter things that probably won't be a part of this work. I want this to be something I look forward to doing.  
> Anyways, I hope you're enjoying all of this and I love you. <3

The days march on. Remus can hardly believe how quickly they go by, and it feels as if April is over as soon as he blinks his eyes. The flowers on the grounds are blooming, the snow melting away, and the skies are blue once more. And with the Spring and Summer months come shorter nights, meaning shorter transformation periods for Remus. The ecstasy of that little taste of lenience is bliss for him, however insignificant it may seem.

But with May comes the promise of June, and with June comes exams. The First Years are cramming, studying and revising like their lives depend on it, and Remus finds it entertaining to see the way that each student reacts differently to the stress. 

Peter seems to get even more anxious than usual, constantly seeking the help and reassurance of his peers. This results in Remus resuming his post as part-time tutor for the boy, and if he and Peter weren’t friends he doesn’t think he’d be doing it. Peter can be a bit of a mess, seemingly on the edge of tears and panic whenever he doesn’t understand something (which is quite a lot), but Remus knows the boy is trying his hardest. And wouldn’t he, Remus, want someone to help him too, were it him?

Remus quite honestly doesn’t know much about James and Sirius’s study habits; he’s never really seen them study. Sure, they’ll look over notes before a class, or scribble down an assignment at the last minute, but he’s never really seen them _study_ . Everyone, including the two boys, knows that they’re incredibly naturally talented and could very well be tops of their class if they put in the effort. But they don’t use it, which to Remus is absurd. If he had the natural ability of those boys, he would never _ever_ take it for granted. Well, to be perfectly honest, it’s more Sirius than James; James seems to find the motivation to work solely in the form of seeking approval from a certain redhead, which of course he never gets. Remus wonders if they’ll go their usual route and just cram the day before the exams, or if they truly don’t need to study at all.

Lily Evans is, as always, more on top of everything than Remus could ever dream of being. She has all of her lessons mapped out in a planner, sometimes even with specific times to study each. Remus hopes that her study habits might rub off on him, because Merlin knows he needs some concrete organization in his life, and takes to joining her in the library most days. These days, with Lily Evans comes her friends, who seem to have had the same idea as Remus to siphon off some of Lily’s brilliance. At this rate, she may not have any left come exams, but Remus is perfectly willing to take that risk. Which is how he ends up in the library on a Thursday evening after dinner in mid-May, seated at a table in the corner with Lily, Marlene McKinnon, Mary Macdonald, and Alice Fortescue. Peter is off somewhere else, obviously not needing help today, or maybe he was just intimidated by the girls. Remus should probably be cursing Pete for abandoning him with no one to help him fend off the female species, but that’s more James and Sirius’s sort of thing. Remus himself has never particularly minded girls, however confusing they may be.

Marlene groans, laying her head dramatically face-first on the table so that her honey-blond hair is splayed over her textbook--Potions, if Remus can see correctly through the tangles. Today the girl has tiny little braids woven throughout her hair, and Remus thinks it makes her look rather like a fairy. Not that he’s ever really seen a fairy, but in his mind this is what they resemble. Mary takes a hand and wordlessly pats Marlene on the head, not even looking up from her work, suggesting that this is a rather common occurrence.

“This is worthless,” Marlene moans, her voice muffled by the table. “I’m never going to understand Potions. I’m going to fail all my exams, and I’ll be the first student ever to be chucked out of Hogwarts after their first year.” As she speaks, Marlene waves her hands expressively, never picking up her head, which gives her the strangest resemblance to a marionette puppet.

“Oh, hush,” Lily dismisses as Mary finally looks up to heave Marlene back into an upright position. “You’re going to do fine. Here, what do you need?” Lily pushes aside her own books to turn to her friend. If there’s one thing everyone knows about Lily Evans (beside the fact that she hates James Potter), it’s that she’s incredibly talented at Potions--possibly even better than Severus Snape, although no one in their right mind (except maybe James, who arguably isn’t in his right mind all of the time) would dare tell him. Potions is also possibly Remus’s worst subject, and he once again finds himself longing for the natural talent that’s been so unfairly gifted to his friends.

Remus knows he should be turning back to his own work, but he’ll take people watching over the Goblin Rebellion of 1625 any day. Marlene and Lily are now caught up in an intense Potions review, which Remus tries to tune out because he’s already had his fill of Potions for the day and he’d very much like to not hear anything else about it for as long as he lives (or maybe just until class tomorrow). On his right, Mary is poured over a book on Transfiguration, her brunette locks falling gracefully from her headband to touch the surface of the table. Across from him, Alice is entirely engrossed in a Herbology textbook that seems to be quite above their level. At the front of the library, Madam Pince is behind her desk, alternating between restacking a pile of books and glaring around the room. Remus wonders if she’s even capable of smiling.

“How old do you think Madam Pince is?” Remus doesn’t fully comprehend that he’s said this out loud until the four girls look at him in surprise. 

“Godric, I have no idea,” says Mary, looking over to the librarian with her eyebrows pulled together in scrutiny.

“She seems like the sort of person who’s kind of ageless, you know?” Marlene comments in a low voice, grinning. “Like she’ll always look like that, no matter how much time passes. She probably wasn’t even born, just showed up on Earth one day in that ugly dress yelling at students about her precious books.”

“Marlene!” Lily scolds, but Marlene is cackling, and Remus and the other two girls are giggling into their fists.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong, Lily! Filch is the same way.”

Remus is mid-laugh when it happens. Out of nowhere he’s pulled from his chair, as if someone has attached an invisible zipline to the back of his shirt, and he flies backwards, so fast he can hear wind in his ears, and he hears Madam Pince’s faint shriek as he’s pulled out the door of the library.

~~~

Sirius is laughing so hard he has to wipe tears from his eyes when Remus slams onto the stone floor in front of them, landing harshly on his behind and swearing. James still has his wand raised and stands over Remus, grinning like a maniac, and Peter is laughing as well, except with a bit of his ever-present nerves keeping him from a full-on laughing fit like the one Sirius is in. 

“IT WORKED!” James cheers, actually pumping his fists. This only makes Sirius laugh harder, and he vaguely registers Pete helping a confused and annoyed Remus up from the ground.

“What in the bloody hell--”

“We summoned you!” James explains excitedly. “Using _Accio_!”

“But that spell doesn’t work on living things--”

“No,” Sirius interrupts, finally over his fit of giggles, “but it does work on inanimate items someone may be wearing or holding. We just had to summon your shirt and you came flying.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “I need to go get my stuff,” he says, and walks back into the library.

“Oh Merlin, that was brilliant,” Sirius manages. “Did you see the way he flew?”

James can only nod, wiping tears of laughter from his own eyes behind his glasses. Remus returns, bookbag over his arm and an attempt at annoyance on his face, and they set off down the corridor.

“So, was there any particular reason for interrupting my study time, or was it just for fun?”

“Oh, I’m so very sorry for interrupting your time with the _girls_ , Lupin,” Sirius teases, and Remus shoves him, face going slightly pink.

“Shut up, we were studying, which it really wouldn’t hurt you to try, exams are in a few weeks.”

“Oh really, I had no idea,” Sirius mumbles. He’s so bloody sick of Remus and his studying--the boy seems to do nothing else these days. And even though Sirius would probably never admit it, he misses Remus. Misses his constant snark, his quiet presence.

One can only bear so much time with James without reinforcements. 

“Sorry, Remus, but it’s almost curfew anyway, and we had to get you, and Pince banned me and Sirius from the library for the week,” James is explaining, not looking sorry at all.

“She didn’t ban Peter!”

“It was more fun this way!”

“Pete, you traitor.” Remus rolls his eyes again, but he’s got that tell-tale look on his face that he gets whenever he’s trying not to smile. “What’d you need me for, anyways?”

James grins excitedly, in a way that makes it clear he’s been holding this in for a very long time. “It is time,” he announces importantly as they ascend the stairs to the seventh floor, “to plan our end-of-the-year prank.”

“Our _what_?”

“We are starting a tradition!” James proclaims, turning to walk backwards to face them and marching like a knight. “One to ensure our legacy for years to come!”

They’ve reached the portrait hole by now, and Remus gives the Fat Lady the password apologetically so they can clamber through.

“Come on, Lupin, we’ve been lacking in the mayhem department lately anyways,” Sirius pleads as they enter the dormitory. “And you always have the best ideas.”

Remus has to hide a smile at this, and James lets out a “hey!” before Sirius kicks him.

“Not today,” Remus concedes. “I’m bloody exhausted, and we’ve got time.” 

James nods and turns to go into the bathroom, pumping his fist when he thinks no one’s looking (Sirius is). Peter moves to change into his pajamas, and Remus busies himself with putting his books away. Sirius stands for a moment, staring. Rooted on the spot with unfocused eyes stuck on his friend, watching him move through the space, somehow careful and unconcerned at the same time. And then Remus looks up, making eye contact with Sirius, a confused, tentative smile forming. Sirius shakes his head a little, trying to refocus, and manages a halfhearted smirk before turning to his own bed to change.

He’s in the bathroom a few minutes later, brushing his teeth, when Remus comes in. They make eye contact in the mirror and Sirius grins around his toothbrush, showing off his toothpaste-covered teeth, but Remus isn’t watching. They brush their teeth in silence before Sirius can’t take it anymore. Remus is on his way out of the bathroom when he breaks it.

“You’re not really mad, are you, Remus?” he asks cautiously, washing his toothbrush in the sink. He’s not sure what he’ll do if the answer is yes.

Remus finally smiles, and it feels like a weight is lifted in the room, like the lights must be getting brighter, as it covers his face, stretching his mysterious scars in just the right way. 

“No,” he assures, pausing just in front of the doorway and facing Sirius. It was really an impressive bit of magic.” 

And then he exits into the dark, quiet dormitory, shutting the door softly behind him and leaving a grinning Sirius in his wake.


	20. Who Chases Away the Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius lets his guard down, exams are finally over, and thank god for Euphemia Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at chapter 20!!! This is a huge milestone for me because this is officially (actually it has been for a while) the longest story I've ever written. I think the next chapter might be the last which is very excitingggg!!!!  
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Also TW: mentions of abuse and trauma

James is whistling as he walks down the corridor, covered by the invisibility cloak. He’s not the best at whistling, really, and after a few moments the shrill noise turns into breath, and he laughs at himself. The corridor is deserted, for once, but he probably would still be whistling even if it wasn’t. James Potter doesn’t have much shame.

Things are going well for James. Everything is good, life is great. His exams are half over already, and they’ve barely been hard at all, despite the fact that he barely studied. The Marauders are making headway on ideas for their End Of The Year Prank, set to happen next week on the last day of school. There’s only one more week before Summer, and he’s walking through a deserted hallway just before curfew entirely undetected, and Lily Evans looked at him at breakfast this morning without glaring (she was half asleep, but to him it still counts), so really, he thinks today is a fully qualified day for happy whistling.

James is very much looking forward to the Summer. No school, no homework, getting to do what he pleases every day. He has a plan to get all of the Marauders to his house for as long as he can possibly keep them, and while he hasn’t asked them or his parents yet, he doesn’t see why anyone would refuse--

”--don’t _care_ what your preferences are, your family wants you at home.”

James stops short just as he’s about to turn the corner when he hears voices coming from the other side. It’s a girl’s voice, probably an older student, and the sound is so harsh and cold that James almost shivers.

“I don’t care.” Sirius’s voice comes from around the corner and James almost does a double take; the bravado and confidence consistently present in Sirius’s voice is gone, with fear and a failing attempt at his usual nonchalance in its place.

“Are you not listening to me? It wasn’t a request.” There’s a pause, and this must be serious because this might be the first time James has ever witnessed Sirius to be without a witty comment or sharp comeback. “You should know by now what happens when you refuse. _I_ certainly won’t hesitate to remind you.”

“Leave me _alone_ ,” Sirius growls, but it’s missing all of its usual bite, and his voice wavers. 

There’s a long sigh. “Fine. But remember, you’re not the only option.” 

As soon as he hears the retreating footsteps, James steps around the corner, still covered by the invisibility cloak. The girl is stalking away from him, black robes billowing behind her along with her massive tangles of curly raven hair. Sirius is staring after her, a dazed, terrified look over his expression, and he looks smaller than James has ever seen him. 

James pulls off the cloak, going to stand behind his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sirius?”

Sirius nearly jumps three feet in the air. “Who the bloody hell--oh, James.” His normally perfectly measured expression sags, as if he simply doesn’t have the energy to keep it up right now. “I’m assuming you heard all of that?”

“Just the end. Who was that?”

“My cousin.”

Oh. James probably should have known that this was about his family, as it’s the only thing that seems to throw Sirius off to this degree. James doesn’t know any details or specifics, but he knows that Sirius hates the lot of them, and that they don’t treat him well.

“Do you...want to talk about it?”

Sirius just shakes his head. “I’m really tired,” he says. “Can we just go up to bed now?”

Normally, James would joke about Sirius becoming a weakling for not staying up until ungodly hours of the morning. But the other boy’s eyes are so tired, so scared, that it doesn’t matter that it’s only 9:00. James just nods, throws an arm around his best mate, and leads him up to Gryffindor tower. Neither of them says a word, but James thinks that’s ok, that maybe this is the best he can do for now.

~~~

Sirius doesn’t quite know how he managed to get here. He’s cursing himself for the weakness he’s shown, for letting his guard down. But in hindsight, what else could he really have done?

James had walked him silently up to the dormitory after his encounter with Bellatrix. He’d been numb almost, afterwards, and he knew how these things went now. He’d go emotionless, unwilling to feel that it actually affected him, and then it would hit him all later when he was alone.

But he’s not alone now, which is new and strange and unheard of for Sirius. James had watched him get into bed with worry in his eyes, a look that Sirius was too distracted to hate as much as he normally would have. He heard James tell him that Sirius could ask if he needed anything before he’d pulled the curtains around his bed, attempting to shut out the world.

Sirius tosses and turns all night, plagued with nightmares that are more memory than fantasy.

When he startles awake, his cheeks are wet with tears and he’s shaking. He sits up in the dark, taking deep shuddering inhales. The dormitory is silent, save for the soft sounds of sleeping children, and it’s too dark. Too silent. Too much.

Before he really knows what he’s doing, Sirius is outside James’s bed curtains, whispering his name. He hates that he’s doing this, James is probably sleeping, probably doesn’t want to be bothered. But then the boy’s hand is reaching for his glasses and his face is smiling sleepily, invitingly, back at Sirius. Wordlessly, James opens the curtains, casting a silencing charm once Sirius has crawled inside. 

“Are you alright?” James’s voice comes out in a whisper even in the protection of the spell.

Sirius hesitates, a lie on the tip of his tongue. But he can’t get it out. He’s so tired. With a lump in his throat, he shakes his head. And then James has his arms around him, and Sirius is crying, and he knows he’ll regret this later but right now it just feels so good to get it out. He sobs for what feels like hours on James’s shoulder, and James simply holds him, steady and strong and _there._ When he has no tears left, he looks up at his friend through watery eyes, only his outline visible in the darkness.

“Can I stay here?”

James doesn’t even answer, just pulls back the covers, and Sirius feels safe, safer than he’s felt in a very long time. Safe enough for an explanation.

“I have nightmares about them,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. James goes still next to him and Sirius can tell that he’s listening hard, absorbing every word. “They...do things to me, sometimes.”

James sucks in a breath. “Is that what she was threatening you about?” His voice is tentative, like he’s scared to ask.

“Bellatrix? Yeah.” Sirius pauses, squeezing his eyes tight for a moment before he continues. “She’s...crazy. And terrifying. All of them are.”

The boys go silent, neither one knowing what to say from there, but it’s not an awkward silence. Just tense. 

“Well, you have us. And we’ll make sure you’re ok.” James says finally, a determination in his voice that almost makes Sirius believe his every word. Almost. So he just says,

“Ok.”

Years from now, Sirius will remember this night as the first time he ever understood the fierce strength of James’s friendship. Laying there in that bed, with his best friend breathing softly next to him, it feels like all the love and protection in the world. Like nothing bad could ever happen, so long as James Potter is there.

~~~

“Thank _Godric_ that’s over. If I ever have to look at a cauldron again, I might lose it.”

“You are aware that we have six years left here, and at least four more years of Potions, right?”

“Do not remind me.”

“Come on, it wasn’t so bad.”

“Jaaames. Yes it was.”

Remus sighs as James and Peter continue their bickering. He has other things to focus on. Happier things. Namely, the fact that he’s officially done with school forever.

Well, more like for the next three months. But forever makes him feel better, so he’s going with that.

Remus sighs again, a louder, happier one this time, as the Marauders amble out of the castle doors and out onto the grounds. It’s a beautiful June day, the sun is shining, the birds might as well be singing, and Remus is _happy_. The First, Second and Third Years have been kicked out of the Gryffindor Common Room for the afternoon so that the older students can have what Billius Weasley called a “not so family friendly end of exams celebration”. This has resulted in the majority of the younger Gryffindor student body taking advantage of the sunshine and hanging out on the grounds. Remus casually navigates himself to the front of their little group, surreptitiously steering the Marauders away from the direction of the Whomping Willow. 

He should probably be happy that he doesn’t have to see that wretched tree for the next three months, but in reality he knows he prefers Hogwarts transformations over transforming anywhere else. The room at home is dark and cold and lonely, and there’s no Madam Pomfrey there to fix him up expertly the way she does, or the promise of friends waiting for his return (no matter how uninformed they may be). Home transformations consist of four gray concrete walls and his parents’ worried glances and no one really knowing how to address the elephant--well, werewolf--in the room for days after while he heals. No, Remus definitely prefers the shack, no matter how moldy and drab it may be. 

The Marauders throw themselves down under a tree (one that is thankfully not enchanted for murderous intent), and Remus leans back against the trunk. James is laying on his back, hands behind his head and eyes closed, with Peter next to him, cross-legged and picking at blades of grass. Sirius is sitting down between Remus and James, running a hand through his hair and looking more relaxed than Remus has seen him in a few days now. The other day, James had led a crumpled Sirius into their dorm and calmly put him to bed, simply telling Remus and Peter that something had happened with his family that he, James, did not know the details to and it was probably better not to ask. Ever since that day, Sirius has looked tense and worried all of the time, a look that doesn’t fit well with the usual Sirius Black Swagger (Sirius should really get that trademarked or something). But now, sitting in the fresh air with exams a thing of the past, he looks happy. And that makes Remus smile.

Remus reaches into his bag and pulls out his book, but it’s immediately pulled from his hands, and he looks up into Sirius’s face.

“Remus.”

“Sirius.”

“We just finished exams.”

“I’m aware. I sat next to you in half of them.”

“So why are you reading?”

“Well, besides the fact that reading is a leisurely activity performed by--”

“ _Remus._ ” Sirius is rolling his eyes now, still holding the book just out of Remus’s reach. “We just finished school for the year. Have some interactions. Merlin knows you could use it.”

Remus opens his mouth to reply, when--

“Merlin’s bloody eyebrows, will you two stop bickering for five minutes?” James interrupts, never even opening his eyes.

“We’re not bickering. We’re _bantering_ ,” Sirius replies.

“Stop bantering, then.”

Sirius sticks his tongue out at James, even though the other boy has his eyes closed, and reluctantly hands Remus his book back, who in turn reluctantly puts it away.

“So, are you excited for Summer?” asks Remus, by way of making conversation.

Sirius flips himself so that he’s laying on his stomach, propped up by his arms. “Eh,” he shrugs. “I’m really not all that excited to see my family. I’ll miss being here.” Remus nods in complete agreement. Not that he doesn’t want to see his parents, because of course he does, but being at Hogwarts has the sort of magic that can’t be replicated anywhere else. “I doubt my parents will let me see you lot, also, so it’ll be a long boring holiday for me.”

James sits up suddenly, shielding his eyes from the sun to look at Sirius. “I forgot to tell you! I wrote to my mum, and she wrote to all of yours and convinced them to let all of you visit for a while!”

“Even mine?” Sirius asks, as if he’s worried this is a joke.

“Yeah, mate!”

“Yes!” Sirius exclaims, his smile taking up his entire head, practically.”I _knew_ she wouldn’t want me around the whole Summer! Thank Merlin and Godric and the Devil for Mrs. Potter.”

Remus grins. Thank Merlin for Mrs. Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I sort of forgot they're all twelve at the end there. Also I really am just stumped on end of the year prank ideas, so please give me input. :)


	21. Results

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is the final week of the school year.

The second week of June is supposed to be a relaxing time, a single week of no classes before the Leaving Feast and the journey home for the Summer holidays. But somehow, it’s turning out to be one of the most frenzied weeks of Peter’s Hogwarts career.

“We--” _ thump _ “--have--”  _ thump _ “--nothing.”  _ thump. _

Peter wrings his hands at the sound that James’s head is making against the wall of their dormitory, and Sirius rolls his eyes.

“Calm down, mate, we’ve still got a few days.”

“Yeah, a few days to come up with a massive, genius prank, plan it, and execute it.” James looks at Sirius like he’s never been more disappointed in someone in his life. “Are you really telling me you’re not stressed?”

Sirius flops onto James’s bed like it’s his. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe if we  _ went outside _ …” Remus scoffs a laugh. The last few days have been beautiful weather, but James has basically refused to let them leave the dormitory until they come up with an idea, except for necessities, of course. “Really, James, I want to enjoy this weather. I think my brain is frying. I think my cells need sunlight to think.”

James rolls his eyes and goes back to hitting his head on the wall.  _ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

“I dunno,” Peter says, staring up at the ceiling from his bed, almost thinking out loud, needing to break the silence.  _ Thump. _ “I kind of miss Winter, and all the snow.”

The thumping stops, and Peter looks up to James, his head frozen halfway toward the wall and his face lighting up. He spins around and tackles Peter into his bed.

“THAT’S IT! PETE YOU GENIUS!” 

“Wh-what?” Peter gasps as James disentangles himself, a flailing of boyish limbs and confused laughter.

“We should make the entire castle snow!” James’s face is so open, so excited, you’d think he was just handed a chance at immortality. 

“Like...inside?” asks Remus. “Everywhere?”

Sirius is up on his feet now, too. “I love it!” he exclaims. “So does this mean we have our idea?”

The word “yes” is barely out of James’s mouth before Sirius whoops and runs out of the dormitory, yelling something about “FREEDOM AT LAST!” James sighs good-naturedly and turns to Peter and Remus, muttering about uselessness. 

“Right, well, I don’t know the spell for this, so--”

“Library. Got it.” Remus salutes the two and exits the dorm without another word. James turns to Peter, that familiar glint in his eye.

“Right, Pete,” he says, almost maliciously, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Let's make a game plan.”

~~~

_ Focus. Focus. Focus. _

Lily repeats this mantra over and over, hunched across the library table, staring at the words on the page, head in her hands. The words move through her vision, little ants floating this way and that, and for once she’s unable to pin them down, to make them make sense. Marlene banished her to the library after she voiced one too many worries about exam results, saying that she should “go stick her head in a book and forget for a little while” because it would do them all some good. But here she is, head very much in a book, unable to distract herself still. How can she, when exam results are to be given out  _ tonight _ ? At least she’s not a Fifth Year, she muses bitterly. To have to wait all Summer for her results? No, Lily could never. 

Lily sighs, flinging her head up and back so that her ginger hair falls over the back of her chair. This is useless, she thinks as she scans the library for a better distraction. Madam Pince is, as always, glaring about the room and furiously stamping books. Why she doesn’t just do it with magic is beyond Lily, who is of the belief that if you can do it with magic, why not? Side effects of being Muggleborn, probably. And it does seem to be a good outlet for the librarian’s constant state of frustration. 

The library is much less crowded than usual--if you’d be so kind as to call the usual crowded, that is. What with it being the last week of school and all, no one seems to really want or need to spend any time here, which is understandable. Being one of the library regulars, Lily has gotten to know most of the others who come every day as she does, at least by face. Today, even most of them are gone, although there are a couple older Ravenclaws in the corner and a group of Hufflepuff Second Years playing Gobstones at one of the tables, and is that Remus?

It is, in fact, Lily realizes as she spots him turning the corner from the Spells and Wandwork section, carrying a book under his arm. Out of the four boys, Remus is undoubtedly the best liar, but she can still tell something’s up by the way he’s covering the spine of the book and glancing around in an attempt to appear surreptitious. She sighs, grabbing her things. Well, she’s got nothing better to do.

“Hey, Remus,” Lily greets, working to keep her voice down so as not to disturb Madam Pince (who’s book stamping has officially passed the point of reasonably loud and is now echoing through the space). Remus looks at her in surprise, tucking the leather-bound book further into his side.

“Oh, Lily, hi, how are you?”

“Oh, you know,” she says, waving a hand and falling into step with him. “Stressed about results, excited to go home, sad to leave. Same old, same old.” He chuckles. “What’ve you got there?”

“Oh, er, this? Nothing, you know, just a little light reading.”

She smiles, feeling strangely like an old grandmother having caught a young boy in an act of doing something troublesome. “Oh, of course. Well, I’ll let you get on with it then.” And, unsure of what’s come over her, she winks, leaving a bewildered Remus behind her.

~~~

Later that night, after his incredibly confusing interaction with Lily Evans, Remus is entirely uncharacteristically sprawled over a couch in the common room, so much so that he sees Sirius do a double take when he comes down the boys’ staircase. To be fair, Remus is usually the most self-aware and polite of the Marauders, despite his lack of a proper upper-class upbringing, but today he’s spread-eagle on the cushions, left limbs nearly touching the floor and his right arm over the back of the couch. James is there, on the floor in front of him and flipping through the book Remus found on weather-related spells and ignoring Remus’s requests for chocolate.

The Common Room is packed tonight, what with exam results being delivered within the hour, probably. Remus has been trying not to think about it, not even wanting to ponder what would happen should he fail, so this prank business has been a welcome distraction. Even if finding the right spell combination to make the snow fall simultaneously throughout the entire castle is possibly the most tedious thing he’s ever done.

Sirius drops himself directly onto Remus’s leg and he groans, leg still somewhat sore from the last full (or maybe it was the one before. He’s lost track). Growling in pain, he sits up and pushes the boy off him with a surprising bit of strength and agility, so much so that Sirius nearly falls off the couch.

“May I have your attention, please.”

Remus sits up straight as a rod, all his focus on Professor McGonagall, who’s standing at the front of the Common Room, holding a stack of parchments. In his peripheral, Remus can see James shoving the book under the couch, and Sirius is lounging next to him as though the professor is simply there to announce tomorrow’s breakfast. Peter is twitching nervously, and Lily Evans is generating so much nervous energy from a couch nearby that Remus almost wants to throw up a shield charm.

“If you are Fourth Year or below, I have here the results of your examinations,” McGonagall begins, and the room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “I’m pleased to announce that the majority of you did fairly well, and for that I am proud. O.W.L and N.E.W.T. students, I’m afraid you all must wait for the end of the holidays for your results.” There’s a collective groan from the older students. “When I call your name, please come and collect your results.”

And she begins, starting with the Fourth Years and working her way down. “Don’t open yours ‘til we’ve all got them,” James whispers, leaning his head in towards Remus and the other two, and they nod. 

Finally, finally, the results have been distributed, and the Marauders face each other on the floor of the Common Room, holding their parchments face down. 

“On the count of three--”

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Sirius interrupts, and flips over his parchment without another word. James groans, and Remus laughs, and they each flip over their own results. 

_ This is the moment of truth _ , Remus thinks to himself. Then-- _ Oh, stop being so dramatic, Remus. _ He turns over his sheet.

**Wizard’s Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptitude Test (W.O.M.B.A.T.)**

**Lupin, Remus**

**Year One**

**_Defense_ _Against The Dark Arts: E_ **

**_Herbology: E_ **

**_Transfiguration: E_ **

**_Charms: E_ **

**_Potions: A_ **

**_History of Magic: A_ **

Remus sighs audibly in relief. This is more than good enough. He’s not going to be chucked out to live as a werewolf on the streets of London, feeding on garbage and the hair of toddlers--

“How’d you do, mate?” James asks, and he’s right up in Remus’s face but Remus is too euphoric to push him away. James, of course, has passed everything with flying colors, beating Remus at Potions, but that was to be expected. Sirius has much the same grades as Remus, and even Peter has passed all his classes. Across the room, Lily Evans’s face is split with a smile, so Remus knows she’s done alright. The Common Room is abuzz with excited chatter, and it warms Remus from the inside out until he’s well aware that he’s beaming. He grabs the book out from under the couch and starts up the staircase to the dorms.

The other three look back at him in confusion, and he just smiles wider. He can feel the scars stretching animatedly across his face but for once he pushes the thought away, wanting to just be a child for just a little while, just a moment, even. 

“You lot coming, or am I going to have to plan this prank myself?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE CHAPTER AHHH!!!


	22. Snow and Star Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is the last day of school.

The very last day of the 1971-1972 school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is quite the eventful day, to say the very least. The dormitories are a mess of children scrambling to find their long-since misplaced belongings, the halls full of sentimental nostalgia as the graduating Seventh Years bid their goodbyes to the staff and everyone anxiously awaits the Leaving feast and the journey home. Some are ecstatic, unable to wait any longer to see their beloved family once more. Others are quite the opposite, dreading the moment they have to step out onto Platform 9 ¾. 

You’d assume, of course, that the First Year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory would be a hurricane of mayhem on a day like today, but surprisingly, it’s entirely the opposite. The room sits neatly still, having not looked so clean since the day they arrived; the beds are neatly made, each with a large trunk sitting in front of it, all their belongings and nick-nacks stuffed away. Behind the initial spotlessness of the space, remnants of the four boys’ year together are scattered about the room like a treasure hunt. The bathroom sink holds remains of toothpaste grime, and the shower head sits at an odd angle, hissing if you turn the temperature knob to sharply. A fake flower necklace has been permanently stuck to the wall in between two of the beds, and the paint is peeling slightly near it from so many uses of tape. There are chocolate wrappers in the corners and behind the beds (one in particular), and if you look closely, the rug is slightly discolored in places, turning shades of purple and pink depending on which way you look at it. It’s not a usual sight for the room to be this still or empty, and certainly not this early in the morning. 

Elsewhere in the castle, four boys run around, wands raised and giggling, hidden underneath an Invisibility Cloak. They murmur spells through their laughter, dodging incoming students and teachers and tripping over each other as they try to walk in a straight line. If you were to be walking down this corridor right now, you’re most likely confused and bewildered when the early-summer atmosphere suddenly shifts, and snow begins to fall from invisible clouds in the rafters. The boys, still hidden and overrun with giggles of mischief, high-five and scurry away, while all across the school, students and professors alike stare up in shock as the delicate flakes flutter down, coating the halls in white but leaving the warmth of the weather outside still intact. Elsewhere in the castle, a red-haired girl scoffs, hiding her amusement because she’s much too stubborn to admit she’s enjoying a James Potter prank. Elsewhere in the castle, a stern professor breaks her constant hawk-like stare to stare upwards in awe, catching a few flakes on her fingers in the safety of her closed office, smiling fondly because she knows exactly who’s behind this.

~~~

It’s possibly the most glorious thing Sirius has ever seen in his twelve long years of life. There are snow creatures at every corner, people sledding down staircases, snowball fights in the corridors. And the best part is that if they get sick of the snow, they can go right out onto the grounds, where the grass is green and the sun is shining in the periwinkle sky. Even the professors seem amused; Flitwick actually comes up to the four at lunch and tells them that it’s really quite impressive magic--and of course they deny all connection to it, but praise is praise all the same.

“This is possibly the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen,” James announces to Sirius, Remus and Peter as the four Marauders trudge through the snow-covered entrance hall.

Sirius grins at him. “Of course it is, we d-- _oof!_ ” He’s cut off suddenly when a neatly packed snowball hits him right in the gut, and he doubles over for a moment, the wind momentarily knocked out of him. James cracks up laughing, and Remus, of course, checks to see if he’s ok. Sirius straightens, looking around for the culprit. He follows the sound of evil laughter to a mess of dirty blond hair and twinkling hazel eyes. Marlene McKinnon cackles as she packs another snowball, this time aiming directly for his face.

Sirius laughs, scooping up his own snow and yelling “Reinforcements! I need reinforcements!” The boys scramble to help him, and then the other three girls appear, and somehow it evolves into a full-on snowball fight, complete with snow forts and sneak-attacks. Lily Evans has surprisingly good aim for someone who hangs out in a library all day; Remus, on the other hand, is strangely strong but cannot aim to save his life, so he’s tasked with the sneak attacks, and he shoves snow down multiple people’s backs--including Sirius’s. James’s glasses have been charmed to be unbreakable and waterproof, and everyone’s sleeves are rolled up, fingers numb but the rest of them warm and sweaty and breathless. Sirius hits James in the face at one point; he’s entirely lost track of who’s on what team, and James retaliates by tackling him and shoveling snow in his face. 

Some time into this battle, Sirius is winding up his arm from behind the safe barrier of their snow fort, his target in sight. Marlene stands unsuspecting across the Hall, building a snowman with Mary and Alice. He lines up his aim and releases the snowball.

It does not hit Marlene. This is very clear to Sirius when it whacks an unsuspecting Professor McGonagall square in the side of the head. She turns very very slowly, wiping snow from her head, glare sharpening, and the Entrance Hall goes quiet, the only sound being Peeves’ cackling laughter from somewhere up in the rafters. Sirius stands very very slowly, looks her dead in the eyes, and says,

“Wanna play?”

In his peripheral, James falls over laughing and Remus’s head falls into his hands.

McGonagall stares at him, and Sirius could _swear_ she’s trying not to smile, but maybe it’s wishful thinking. “No, Mr. Black, I think I’d rather not.”

“Right, sorry.” 

“And I really should give you detention, but it is the last day of school,” she admits, never breaking her piercing stare. “First day of next year, Mr. Black. My office.”

“Looking forward to it,” he responds with a grin as she turns sharply and exits the Hall, still wiping snow from her side.

~~~

James is still laughing hours later on their way to the Feast. Every time he forgets for a minute, the image of McGonagall’s snow-covered head and her shocked expression resurfaces in his mind and then he’s over the edge again, cackling with laughter.

“Merlin’s beard, James, did you walk into a Cheering Charm or something?” Remus quipps as they make their way down the stairs, which have now been emptied of snow in preparation for the Leaving Feast. James just shoves him, in too good of a mood to have any good bantering response. 

The boys walk past the towering hourglasses outside of the Great Hall, each filled with glittering gems--rubies for Gryffindor, emeralds for Slytherin, diamonds for Hufflepuff, and sapphires for Ravenclaw. James admittedly has not paid much attention to the House points much over the course of the year, something he regrets when he sees that Gryffindor has certainly not won this year. Next year, he thinks. Next year, they’ll win the Cup. 

James follows his friends into the Great Hall, which has been decorated with blue and silver for Ravenclaw. Ribbons in the House colors dangle from the ceiling, and a large blue banner with the Ravenclaw eagle hangs behind the staff table at the front of the room. Students file into the Hall, chattering to friends and slipping into seats. The Marauders slide onto the bench at the Gryffindor table, Evans and the other girls not far down from them. She turns sharply when she sees him, before he can even send her a grin, but he’s not in the mood to pout about it. Sirius is slumped across the table and Remus is absentmindedly patting him on the head like a dog. 

“Cheer up, Black, we’ll win next year.”

“It’s like they’re shoving it in my face... _Look, you lost, ha ha.”_

“Sirius,” James cuts in, “we didn’t even try to win. You and I both know that we’re responsible for at least half the points lost this year.”

Sirius sighs dramatically and averts his eyes from James, seemingly without a comeback, and James smirks.

“How fast time flies!” calls a voice, old but still surprisingly loud and strong, and the Great Hall quiets immediately, all heads turning to the Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore stands at the front of the room, and James is hit with a sense of deja-vu at the way his beard flows in the non-existent wind, his eyes crinkled with smile lines behind his half-moon glasses. “Another year come and gone, and still I must ask that you bear with me only a few minutes more before I allow you all to stuff your faces as you please. 

“And now, as you all know, it is time for the rewarding of the House Cup.” Sirius’s head sinks lower onto the table, if that’s even possible. “Before we begin, let me assure you that each and every one of you has done and achieved remarkable things this year, even as some of it has been rather mischievous.” James could swear the old man looks at him at this, and he grins. “And now I think I’ve stalled you all long enough. In fourth place, Gryffindor, with a total of three hundred and fifty-two points.” There is mild cheering from the Gryffindor table, with polite clapping from the other three--and some particularly rude jeering from the Slytherins. “In third place, Slytherin, with three hundred and eighty-eight points.” More polite applause, this time with the absence of the rude jeering, although James certainly is tempted. “In second place, I give you Hufflepuff, with a total of four hundred and twenty points.” There’s significantly more applause for this; Professor Sprout looks beside herself with euphoria, clapping her hands together with an almost endearing resemblance to an excited child. “And without further ado, in first place, with a grand total of four hundred and forty-eight points, Ravenclaw!” The Hall erupts into applause, the Ravenclaws cheering and congratulating each other. James claps politely--he really is happy for them (or happy it isn’t Slytherin, anyway), but he is quite competitive by nature. Sirius leans his head on James’s shoulder. 

“At least it wasn’t Slytherin,” he says, voicing James’s thoughts, and James smiles as Dumbledore continues his speech.

“...And now I think I’ve held you in wait long enough, so let the Feast begin!” Dumbledore raises his arms and food appears out of thin air on the tables in front of them, glittering plates and goblets towering with food of all kinds as the Hall applauds. James can see Peter eyeing the food with almost ravenous hunger as he fills his plate. Remus is turned and chatting with Mary Macdonald animatedly about something, a relaxed smile on his face, and Sirius picks his head up off of James’s shoulder at the sight of food, petty soreness forgotten.

James grins, looking around at his friends. It’s strange that it’s only been a year--less, really--since they all became friends, and now James can barely remember a time when they weren't. Being around them, being here, it gives him a sense of calm, a sense of belonging that he’s never felt anywhere else. He looks up at the enchanted ceiling, where the stars of the outside sky twinkle at him, silvery flecks across the midnight rafters. He chooses a star, the brightest one he can see, and makes a wish.

_Let this last forever. Let us never change._

_***_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they all lived.   
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I seriously cannot believe I actually finished this and I'm very proud of myself for it. I'm currently toying with the idea of an epilogue, so possibly more to come? No promises though. <3


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